The JobA Poem by Keith Just another day at work!
A tribute to our Heros, The Heros Walk of Fame, At every yard along that path, A sporting hero's
name You enter through a golden gate, What an awesome sight! Dawn Fraser sculptured on the left, John Newcombe on the right. Trevor's Concrete Co awarded The paving contract prize. The Prime Minister set herself As the one to supervise. She said “At stake our national pride, This job cannot be late, And most important to be sure, You watch that bloody gate”. It was early in the morning On a chilly Melbourne Day, Two miles of paving to pour, Most would say, “No Way!”. The sound of “The concrete is Here!”, Came ringing through the mist, Half finished
cups of coffee tossed, “Bugger” Bretty hissed. That annoying beep beep beep, Of the reversing truck, Interrupted as it shunted, Through some slimy muck. There were multiple attempts With an awful lot of revving, But oh, the look on Trevor’s face, Showed he was far from heaven. Things were getting really tense, Darcy’s glasses now all fogged, “Oh Heck!” he
cried a sorry note “The bloody truck is bogged!”. The sound of Trevor’s silence, Was ringing in their ears, The crew stood stiff in terror, This was the sum of all their fears. They expected that first concrete truck To quickly come and go, Now it seemed they had three more, All waiting in a row. One hundred yards from truck to job, The boys began to wheel, Barrowing up
that nasty hill, What a crappy deal?
Struggling up that slippery track, And through the gate still panting, They tipped it at the boss’ feet, You shoulda
heard him ranting. They were never gunna do it, The pace was slowing down, By now the boys were thinking Of clearing outa town. Things were looking awfully grim, It seemed they had no hope, When the strangest sight appeared Coming up the slope. Through the fog such a brilliant light, With a halo all around. They were hoping it be the Lord, To ascend them from the ground. It was indeed salvation, But not in holy way, It was Maxy on the Bobcat, About to save the day. Max the youngest of Trevor's sons He was only ten years old, He drove machines before he walked, He was brave,
courageous and bold. Trevor a non believer shouted, “It won’t fit through that gate!” As there was no time to explain, The boss would have to wait. With a bucket full of concrete Max steered it through the mush, Then charging at that golden gate It was happening in a rush. A pale Trevor gasped in horror, This would be his ruin, But Max was cool as a cucumber, He knew what he was doing. But the bucket it was six feet wide, The opening a little less, It was pretty clear that all did fear An awfully expensive mess. Maxy lifted up that bucket To its maximum extent. The bloody
gate was higher, And about to
get bent. But our hero had it covered, A mono he did pop, On back wheels only up it went, Another clear inch, right over the top. The Bobcat wheels were not as
wide, As the widest part, Max with nerves of steel, And a great big heart. All day Max showed his talent, He drove it with such flare, Each time he snudged it through
that gate, A mere half inch to spare. All the concrete on
that job Carted by Max that day, They actually went home early, Had McDonalds on the way. At home they walked in through the door And Linda said “How did ya go?”. All that Trevor had to say was, “Yeah, ….so so.” Around the family barbeques’s, Tall stories of the past. But the tale how Maxy saved that job,
Seems to last and last. Exaggeration helps with time Each version more incredible, For all those present on that day, The memory
indelible. The time has passed, so many years on Trevor just
rocks his chair, He doesn't respond and you would think, There’s nothing left up there. But news of the Hero's Walk of Fame, Brings out a heavy sigh, He actually gets excited, And there’s a twinkle in his eye. © 2013 KeithReviews
|
Stats
816 Views
16 Reviews  Last Updated on June 11, 2013 Tags: Concrete, Australia, Prime Minister, Bobcat Paving Author
KeithGippsland, Victoria, AustraliaAboutI grew up on a diet of Australian bush poetry. Now a business consultant, I spend far too much time on aeroplanes and in hotels, I use this time to write. I like to tell stories and have fun. If y.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
first
prev
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
