From Mansfield to Benalla

[Stephen Whiteside]

The creative process is such a mystery. This is an idea I've had floating around in my head for years. So why did I write the poem today?


From Mansfield to Benalla

From Mansfield to Benalla is a gentle, jolly ride,
With cows and sheep and eucalypts arrayed at either side;
The road is not so gentle on your quickly spinning tyres,
But the scenery so beautiful assuredly inspires.

From Mansfield to Benalla is a welcome sideways shift
To rest your burdened senses and to give your soul a lift;
Your breath will come more freely. You might hum a little song
As through the winding valleys you bounce happily along.

From Mansfield to Benalla is a counter-culture move.
Maroondah Highway sweeps you in a long and steady groove.
The Hume, of course, does likewise – guides your journey even more;
It seeks to hold you captive all the way from door to door.

From Mansfield to Benalla is a reckless jitterbug;
It’s a simple protest act against the tarmac highway thug.
It’s a daydream. It’s a gamble. It’s a life-affirming ploy.
From Mansfield to Benalla is a journey jacked with joy!

© Stephen Whiteside 03.06.2016

[Neville Briggs]

Ned Kelly country? I get the feeling on main highways now of being locked in a tunnel and being unable to engage with the passing countryside.

I could be wrong but as I recall, Benalla has a charming little community art gallery which I enjoyed years ago.

Why did you write the poem today. because it was ready to be written today.

[Rhonda Tallnash]

Thanks for the lovely poem Stephen! I know the road you describe very well. I live in Violet Town as you know. I think you've captured that particular road beautifully but I agree sometimes the freeways are manic tunnels unless one slows down and enjoys it - sometimes at your peril with a B double on your tail! And that can go for the Mansfield to Benalla Road too if one is enjoying the scenery. A B double hurtles around a bend towards you and all enjoyment is lost. Maybe I could write a funny one (to be a Part B to your Part A) about me following you and noticing a truck driver's frustration?

[Shelley Hansen]

Lovely description, Stephen, although (unlike Rhonda) it's not a road I personally know well.

Like you, poetic ideas float, rattle, sometimes "jitterbug" in my head - but don't become actual poems until suddenly, one day, there they are!! Yep, I scare myself sometimes!!

Cheers
Shelley

[Rhonda Tallnash]

The Truckie’s Lament (…of Stephen)

Now I’m the truckie on ya’ bum on this road to Benalla,
So stop you’re stupid stargazin’. Move over little fella’.
For Heaven’s sakes, I gotta fly, the scenery ain’t that good,
If you don’t move ya’ bum, I’ll put me wheels thru’ ya’ hood!

Just pull off to the side and let the real drivers through,
Even cockies with a battered hat drive faster than you!
The accelerator’s on the right, just below ya’ feet,
Press the blasted thing or I’ll nudge you along a treat.

If I get any closer I’ll be joining you for tea,
And me breath is real bad. You don’t wanna eat with me!
But wait, I’ve got a good idea. Just hoist ya’ car up here,
Then you can see the sights while I drive and drink me beer!

…with kindest wishes for a poetry mate

Rhonda

© Rhonda M. Tallnash 2016

[Stephen Whiteside]

Wot a wuffian!

[Stephen Whiteside]

Nice work, Rhonda, and thank you, Neville and Shelley.

[Rhonda Tallnash]

Thanks Stephen, especially for the inspiration and my pleasure to introduce you to the 'wuffian'. It's been a while since I've been inspired to write a 'ditty'. I might make it a little longer and move from your perspective as the stargazer to the truckie and back again - I need another humorous poem for competitions anyway. I'll just move it to another road - there are plenty! It's a little too close to home. Kind regards

Rhonda

[Stephen Whiteside]

I see I have a guest - unwelcome - sitting on my tail.
It's rude. It's most unsafe, and it is quite beyond the pale!
He thinks that he can bully me, and make me drive with speed.
Well, I have just the strategy to make his sweet heart bleed.

Slower…ever slower…on this scenic rustic track;
That's the way to shake this wretched villain off my back,
And if, perchance, our vehicles do touch, our metals clash,
At least we'll have a gentle, not a wild and rapid, crash.

Slower…ever slower…what's that coming from his ears?
Why yes, I do believe it's steam! It's just as it appears!
His face has gone tomato red. His puffy lips are pursed.
Oh dear, it really looks as though he's just about to burst.

If I drove much slower he could stop his truck and sprint
And catch my car and kick it hard and leave a nasty dint,
So, no, I won't go any slower now. I've judged it right.
We could take all day to drive this stretch - and half the night!

Oh, look. We've reached a wider patch. His chance to overtake.
Well, that's OK. To block him now would be a grave mistake.
I've had my fun. He had his chance to bully me, and missed.
I smile, and gesture sweetly, while he swears, and shakes his fist.

I turn the CD player up. I really love this song.
I throw my head back heartily, and loudly sing along.
But as I've turned this corner, I have slammed the brakes, and slowed…
I see a truck parked sideways, stretching right across the road!

[Rhonda Tallnash]

You are very clever Stephen! I got a belly laugh with that - and you're so quick too! I'm not sure I've got a 'come-back' in me. Let me sleep on it! Kind regards


Rhonda