Sunday, December 8, 2019
He was a man of very few words.
Knew all the trees, plants, animals and birds.
Started his life in trouble and strife.
Managed to win a beautiful wife.
Told by the doctor farmings beyond you Phil.
He took up a mattock and cleaned up the hill.
And if illness hadn't taken him he'd be swinging it still.
When assistance was needed he would not complain.
Even if it meant working hours, in the pouring rain.
Though he did get annoyed when “those b#$%^* wattles are flowering again”
Now the chainsaw, tractor, whip & shovel lay still.
Not even the wind coming over the hill.
I guess it's the valley missing our Phil.
