Captain Pat's Windmill

I saw this windmill in the bush, it's vanes all bent and twisted.
I tried to give its shaft a push, but time (and rust) persisted.

I've never been a country guy, nor longed to be a drover,
I pondered long and wondered why this windmill's time was over.
I thought, "If this old structure soaked up history like a cell,
What visions could it witness, what stories could it tell?"

I grabbed the tall and rusted frame that held the vanes aloft,
I felt a shock and looked again at a time I thought was lost!
The hills and fields were still the same but that's where logic ended!
Instead of weeds and Salvation Jane were meadows, carefully tended.

Where once a line of wire and wood lay canted at an angle,
A five bar fence now proudly stood without a trace of tangle.
I felt the windmill thrumming strong as I gripped the windmill's railing,
I wondered what was going on? What visions were unveiling?

I looked around at fields of wheat, I smelled the fresh-hewn hay.
I heard some cows and heard some sheep, and I think I saw a "dray."
From behind me came a voice that spoke, "Let go of that, ya dill!"
I turned and saw a weathered old bloke, I assumed he built this 'mill.

"But, Sir," I said, "by holding this, I'm witnessing the past!
To let go now would be remiss, It's fate this spell's been cast!"
The farmer rolled his eyes and sighed, like he'd heard it all before.
He paused a moment, then replied, "Fair enough," and swore.

"Most city arseholes drive on through in their air conditioned Hummers.
Some wonder "What's this windmill do, besides cooling cows in summers?"
"But you, my friend, have crossed a line, it happens now and then.
You're pondering this windmill's time, you're seeing it working again."

"For every start there is an end, for me it was World War Two.
But you've gone back in time, my friend, now what's gonna happen to you?"
A sad smile crossed the old farmer's face as I slowly digested his meaning.
In a panic, I turned, and ran from this place, of course! I must have been dreaming!

I jumped the old and canted fence, I ran through the Salvation Jane,
I tried not to think because nothing made sense, but then reality came.
I stopped and stared at the blue flashing lights that surrounded the accident scene,
I looked at the body that should, by rights, be strolling along that ravine.

"Come on, Son," the farmer said, "Your time has come at last."
I can't believe I'm dead! I thought, And how did he get here so fast?
He smiled and led me past the site and through the five bar gate.
But when I saw the bright, white light, I said "Now, look here, mate!"

"You might think I'm pretty thick, but this whole thing's a farce!
So take your windmill and go and stick your white light up your arse!"
I grabbed the rusty windmill frame and yelled out "Au Revoir!"
The fields became Salvation Jane and the "dray" became my car.

I saw this windmill in the bush, its vanes all bent and twisted.
It should come down with one big push, completely unassisted!

Choco Munday, October 2012, with apologies to Pat McGeown.