Take me, I'm yours...
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