Daily Prompt, humor, poetry, writing

This is no yarn

bad poetry

Trust me now, this is no yarn
There I was, parked next to the barn
Less of a barn and more of a shed
It was the main storage for the farmstead

Behind the colourbond tin walls
The area was, divided in stalls
One for the tools, one for the compactor
One for the chemicals and one for the tractor

But the big shed is not the gist of this story
It doesn’t even deserve any of the glory
The stars of this ditty are really quite beaut
Cause the stars in question are me and the ute

Parked in the driveway, beside the big door
If it wasn’t for snoozing I’m sure I’d have swore
The hand brake was off and the ute out of gear
Maybe not smart but I’d drunk a case of beer

In the middle of sleeping I squirmed in the seat
It was at that time the tyres decided to retreat
Backwards a-rolling towards the hill’s edge
The driveway was slanted no hope of a wedge

Over the edge, and into the first paddock
Had I been awake, I might have felt quite nomadic
Down the steepest hill, I went in reverse
Waking up with a hangover, I couldn’t have felt worse

Into the next paddock, straight through the fence
Barb wire and posts, to the ute, no defence
By sheer dumbarse luck I did miss the cows
But their mooing and snorting did see me rouse

With lumps, bumps and noises, soon did I wake
But the ute she not stop, my foot was under the brake
With a loud bang and a crash I burst through the gate
As you can probably guess I was considering my fate

Through the third paddock like a bat out of hell
I felt like a mountain climber with no rope to repel
The truck she was rolling I really, really needed a prop
Because without any brakes I knew where I’d stop

I closed both my eyes and held on for dear life
Again it was my sleeping that had got me in strife
It was as I was wondering, what more havoc I’d wreak
That the ute become airborne and I ended up in the creek

Perched in the flowing water, half way up the door
I opened my eyes, yawned, and began to explore
I wanted to get out but I was feeling a bit frail
So my immediate desire was get another ale.

Happy New Year 😛

4 Comments

  1. Howdy doody! I liked this very much

    • Thanks, I’ve been sitting on it a while and decided to make it a poem and not a story. Farm life was nearly as funny as truck life some days.

      • Reminds of an older lady who came into the store on crutches. She drove wearing flipflops and went straight through the back of her garage and down and out of a ditch and finally was stopped by a fence. The first got stuck under the gas pedal.

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