Ode to the Man from the Bush

ODE TO THE MAN FROM THE BUSH

By

Shirley Symes

He walks down the street with a lazy stride, trusty R.M.’s on his feet,

A battered Akubra on his head, maybe knees that do not meet.

A languid stroll that belies his strength, the well known ringer’s squat,

The easy grin, the firm handskake – what you saw was what you got.

But things have changed, there’s a different role, the horse takes a second place,

The four-wheel quad replaces the steed, and a chopper has joined the chase.

There’s radios, mobiles and e-mails to monitor daily chores,

The weather is noted, decisions made, there’s a heap of new fangled laws.

The lifestyle has changed, but hopefully still, the old values and standards remain,

When you grasp a mate’s hand you can trust him well, the message is loud and plain.

You know that he will listen to you, maybe offer an opinion or two,

Then smile and say “Good on you that’s just what I would do”.

But a new style of man now walks the streets, garbed in total mining gear,

He works his shift at the mining site, drives a truck or drills the rock.

When you’re down below you don’t notice the time, there’s no need to watch the clock,

The siren will sound when your hours are up, you come back to reality then.

Tick yourself off, climb back on the bus, have a rest and start over again.

So the image of our country men is something we admire and respect,

The character, the style and quiet pride, not something just there for effect,

The men from the bush, they have left their mark, we have loved them and followed their fates,

Truly Aussie, laconic and strong and lean, just genuine reliable mates.