The Dry.

Another sundrenched morning the sun it shines so bright

I stand on the verandah and stare out at the blight

Where once there stood a garden and pasture grown with care

The dry has claimed it all I see nothing there.

 

The cattle stand staring pleading hunger in their eyes

The hayshed stands empty the dams have all gone dry

Most stock have been sold off some withered up and died

The rest struggle to live on beneath this cloudless sky

There’s rain up in the north I hear the people chorus

It may travel south we know not what’s before us

If only we could share I hear some hopefuls sigh

Have rain in equal measure rather than so bloody dry.

 

I’ve thought about the lonely path some men and women have taken

When all hope is forgotten, where all is sadly forsaken

The gun it was ready leaning up against the shed wall

The letter sadly written “I’m no use to you at all”.

 

But my family still need me there is hope still in their hearts

I couldn’t do it to them, we’ve never been apart

The dogs well know my struggle they stand here by my side

Faithful and steadfast doing all to make things right.

I come home into the kitchen spent and broken I there stand

Mumbling words heartbroken and then I feel her hand

She holds me close and sweetly she knows I feel cursed

But she loves me so completely in spite of all my worst.

 

There are those who offer help to all, succour for those in drought

Rural Aid and the like they’ll help a farmer out

We only need to reach out acknowledge all our pain

One day at a time my friends we’ll wait to feel the rain.

– Written by an Aussie Farmer

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