Slap and Tickle’s carting super,
Slap and Tickle’s carting grain
Launching, loaded off a gravel
ridge at Erragula plain.
Heading for the highway,
bins a good way off,
sou-wester kicking gently in,
following road trains.
Silos rearing skywards,
bull pen line-ups chock-a-block.
White caps tumble endlessly,
grain ships anchored off.
Road trains inching slowly,
Grain receival gratings flow,
grids bared, polished silver
as trailers unload and go.
Tip bins joggle on their mounts.
Heading back, back further out.
Nest of field bins, chasers race,
‘longside headers pouring grain.
Slap and Tickle’s loaded
Roll tarps firmly clipped in place.
Off she roars
back in the race
Slap and Tickle had a refit,
Engines done a million K
the chassis and cross members
showed a bit of pain.
Sand blast and a paint job,
tensioned up against the strain,
Slap and Tickle back-loads super
with each load of golden grain.
If you like my poems . . .