Sonnet no.3
Snowy Mountain Blood
He views the brumbies fleeing down the hill
while now he’s chasing, closing at great pace.
And knowing that one slip out here could kill,
he can’t afford a tumble or lose face.
The cracking stockwhip sounded as he cheered
it echoed through the valley far below.
These Queensland mountains many have revered,
though riders died when footings lost would throw.
remembers how the man rode snowy’s side,
his father told the story long ago.
And how his heart beat hard with so much pride,
it was his Granddad dealt the best a blow.
He fronts the mob and halts them with one crack!
now with them all defeated, drives them back.
David J Delaney
27/11/2009 ©
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Nearly felt the crack! of that stockwhip. WOW.