The Queen's birthday is on us,
Townies are with us,
Reader pity us!
As soon as the rain relents
The purring screaming,
Tearing at the silent paddock,
Relentless, mindless,
For hours the commotion
Of their infernal machines is heard, felt even
Turning, accelerating, screeching to halt
Revving and here we go again
On the hellish manège.
Once the silence has reestablished Itself
When one can hear one's thoughts again
Then starts the asinine shooting of the Roos
Which carcasses will be found
Hanging on the fences
For such are the townies pleasures
When in the bush they visit.
The Queen's birthday is on us,
Townies are with us,
Reader pity us!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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