Forrester’s Bow (Forrester’s water project)

The first part to the “Forrester’s water project”.

Forrester’s Bow (poem as told by old Mike, a stockman)
Such an adventurous tale, from just a short time ago,
Where Parrots Pavilion meets The Last Ravine to flow,
Julie of the Wild Brush, with Sharon from Traitor’s Top,
Were all caught far up above Sans Script Gorge’s drop,

When came the fierce storm of 71, it hit and raised all hell,
As soon, Parrots Pavilion became soon torrent waters spilling well,
While the thunder cracked the tree tops and lightning shattered stone,
The sky had turned a blackened fire, as the old trees creaked and moaned

Sharon grabbed at Julie, panic in her eyes, we gotta go, we gotta go,
They ran and ducked from place to place, natures warzone at the bow,
Now here fast the water’s rising at their feet, till last one final place to flee,
But The Last Ravine is no safe place, steep with boulders and the Wild Awkward Tree,

Soon an eyrie chill they felt, a fresh cold air rushed hard against their backs,
As Julie looked towards The Last Ravine, they heard the bellow of a mountain axe,
For there he stood, an eyrie rain soaked figure of a mountain man, swinging blows against a tree,
All the while the storm it raged as blow for blow the thunder challenged, the lightning running free,

The mountain man swings with every breath, the driven water dripping from his brow,
He raised his head for just one moment, to freely smile straight at the girls then now,
When the white hot bolt, it cracked the air, blasting him in two now brother,
The tree base shattered, the axe it flew, the girls they dived for cover,

Julie lifted Sharon’s rain soaked head, as they both stood up together,
Where soon they saw an aged rusted axe, there halfway up a tree forever,
Turning on their heels they saw, the eyrie rain soaked man now gone,
For his tree The Last Ravine once dry, it now was flowing high n’ strong.

The girls they smiled, for they recalled the tale,
As they set off from the rising tide,
Down The Last Ravine, like one final dream,
At The Bow in Parrots Pavilion,

Fast they went, down and down,
Twisting this way then the next,
Sharon clung to Julie,
Low branches took their hats,

Till soon they made the narrow drop,
Here they caught such fright,
For straddled across the drop,
Was Forrester’s Ghost alright,

The girls, they tried to stop,
But the ghost just stood there with a book,
The girls they shut their eyes,
He just laughed, and laughed,

As they passed so fast between his legs,
They thought they might of died,
For at the drop it was gravity,
Where they lost their stomach’s load.

Still faster, faster, they did go,
As they hurtled through the ravine,
They could hear his laugh so loud,
As it echoed long among the trees,

For soon they reached a bend,
When all they saw was green,
As they failed to make the turn,
While they hurtled headlong through a bush,

Bumping, banging, thumping,
They rolled out on to a track,
Right before Mike’s old horse,
That she nearly lost her packs,

Looking down towards the pair,
Old Mike he gave a smile
Have you two larks, here lost your way,
Or does the ravine now run a muck.

You won’t believe us if we told you,
That old ghost he chased us down,
Laughing all the way he was,
We thought we were going to drown,

I’ll tell you this now ladies,
Lucky as you are,
The ghost he don’t kindly,
To people standing around,
So pick a packhorse, to climb on top,
Because I’m heading into town,
So I’ll drop you at the Wild Brush,
From there you’ll be safe and sound…

4 responses to “Forrester’s Bow (Forrester’s water project)

    • Here’s a marvelous thank you! I’m still yet to write the play portion in which the poem, and short story reside. Have not even started it yet.

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