Wicked Witch of Wattle Flat.

Recently Arthur Marshall and I had a little chinwag on the 'dog n bone'.

He mentioned enjoying a spell in the salted waters at Moree and as well, Sofala and Hill End.
Now, these three places 'ring bells' with me, so Arthur asked could I write somethin'.

So I said, "Done Mate", knowing full well all I had to do was dive into my electronic bookstore to delve about in a few hundred or so writings about things Aussie.

I've put this one in the regular mail to him, along with a coupla others -

‘Wicked  Witch’

of

Wattle Flat.

Does she exist ?

One cannot be sure,

but her presence was near,

in days of yore.

*

Let’s now go back to that dreaded time

to the day we were sure all was not sublime.

The weather was fine, the trip most extensive,

until this day we are still very pensive.

We set out early from old Bathurst Town

to travel to Hill End, a place of renown

for miners and ‘spivs’ and glittering gold,

to visit the diggings and their relics behold.

It was during this journey that we made a stop

for relief and refreshment from the only shop

along the old road to Sofala and Hill End,

when - suddenly as happens we rounded a bend.

The old broken sign was lopsided and sat

up on a post and told us that

we had without knowing, reached 

Wattle Flat.

It was not a township - hardly even a village -

not much around for even bushrangers to pillage.

Just a few houses - no bus stop - no ‘phone

                                                      all we could hear was a fly's steady drone.                                                                                                                                In the Aussie bush as the locals will tell,

the bloody bush flys will

sure give you hell !

But if you wear that very sensible hat,

with corks all around when in Wattle Flat,

bushflys will not get into your eyes or your ears

you can grin broadly at others whose fears

keep them at home to avoid the nuisance

of bushflys and blowflys and great big bull ants.

But now to the witch --

we must explain

before your tempered patience begins to wane.

Does she exist ?

by crikey she does.

How do we know that ? Well it is becuz    --

from a nearby house emanated a ‘cackle’

causing everyones hair to raise in a hackle.

“It’s the witch”     “It’s the witch”   

somebody cried,

we all looked around for places to hide.

We peered and we probed through the deepening gloom

and then came another  -   from the very front room,

of a ramshackle cottage with a roof made from tin.

We wondered what could be causing the din !

Now,

you know a good story is structured in truth

so, if you want to hear - a witch say 

“forsooth”

then you too must visit old

 Wattle Flat

then you will know how in time - it begat

a continuing saga retold many times,

committed to verse with words making rhymes,

which continued a fable  -  ‘mongst family and friends

then you will know too

how this story ends.

                                                        (c). Rimeriter. Created  2/8/97.

Revised from WriteNow 7/9/10.