Take me, I'm yours...


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Trifecta: 3.“Take me, I’m yours…”

Abandoned Gumboots of a farmer’s out of body experience

Transmogrified as a vision from the bus into town from the milking sheds

Fled in jest to attest to adjustments on the agistment

Put out to tempt with rubber wherewithal and one man’s rubbish

Amounting to a windfall for the “mud-luscious”, according to one Edward Estlin

Who preferred lower case attributions and scrub-scrappy clodhoppers

Appropriated by the likes of that quondam corollary from Aotearoa

One Fred Dagg, national treasure and heralded ‘bloke’ among men

Or the Gumby stock standard character exploited by a boa

Named after a certain tactless Field Marshal capable of routing a tract

All of whom remained steadfast and protected against electrocution

Albeit notwithstanding a lightning strike at the hearts and minds of ‘them’

But insistent on their own trenchant elocution.

“Take me, I’m yours…”


Michael Haward

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