You’re in the Country
When tractor trailer units
Are novelties to comment on,
Once piled high with produce
Delivering round the Swan,
When one fifth acre holdings
Are the norm and creeping on,
And the red loam fertile valley
Grows brick condominions,
When industry is hemmed in
By creeping urbania,
Permits and grants are nothing
Against a politician’s likes,
Build up a comfy buffer zone
Round your winery or truck
To hedge against new neighbours;
My friend, I wish you luck.
Rates levied will rock you
And they’ll increase every half
As one fifth acre properties
Encroach closer every year,
And you’ll look ever despondently
At prices from your crop
And finally flog off your hedge
Against the other lot
Which lobs you in suburbia:
No spray mist or cattle yards;
Wine comes in by courier –
No space for vines or truck.
Talk about spray mist
Before talking of sub- divide,
About wineries and tractors,
About glaring arc lights.
Mention there’ll be cattle
Worked in those rustic yards
And the soft low
Turns to bawling
As they’re hot brand and ear marked.
Disregard the four-lane highway
And fast commuter train:
You’re out here in the country
And agriculture hasn’t changed.
👍 jt
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