The Rain that Came to Stay

The Rain that Came to Stay

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘How much longer this drought,’ he said,

‘The creeks are running dry,

There’s not a lot in the reservoir

And not a cloud in the sky,

The farmers, shooting the cattle that

Have nothing out there to drink,

How much longer this drought,’ he cried

In the pub at Innaminck!

 

The soil had turned to a fine bulldust,

The drought had cracked the clay,

There wasn’t a green shoot anywhere

To be seen by the light of day,

The crops had failed, were ploughed back in

In hopes that the rain would come,

But the skies were clear for the rest of the year

From there to Jerusalem!

 

A tinker called in a beat-up car

And staggered in with his bag,

‘I’m Mickey Malone from County Down

With a thirst that could choke a shag!’

The barman served him a schooner, with

One gulp, he put it away,

But emptied his empty pockets when

The barman asked him to pay.

 

The tinker started his blarney then,

‘I’ll sharpen your knives for free!

Just give me another schooner, chum

And we’ll see what we will see!

I’ll cut your keys, and I’ll wash a dish,

Or I’ll give you a hundred pegs.’

The barman reached and he grabbed his throat,

And lifted him off his legs!

 

‘You’ll have to do better than that, my man,

Don’t drink my beer for free!

I’m taking the wheels of your beat-up car

‘Til you play it straight with me!’

‘Hang on, hang on, just what do you want,

Whatever will pay my due!’

‘We could do with a shower of rain, my man,

But that’s all I’d want from you!’

 

The tinker nodded, ‘No sooner said!

I’ll make it tomorrow noon,

You’ll have to give me a room to rent

And I’ll whip it up in the gloom.’

The barman sneered, ‘You’re having me on,

No way can you make it rain!’

‘You’ll see, tomorrow,’ the tinker said,

‘Though you might think I’m insane!’

 

The barman locked him and his bag in a room,

And took a wheel off his car,

He knew if the tinker tried to escape

He wouldn’t be going far,

But come the dawn, was a distant cloud

Spread out, and up from the south,

It tumbled and turned in the atmosphere

And looked like a dragon’s mouth.

 

At noon the cloud was over their heads,

All black, and threatening rain,

A whirly blew up a dust storm there

And swirled at each window pane,

They locked the door of the pub up tight

And waited, tense as a rag,

The rain came down, ‘Aha,’ he said,

And the tinker patted his bag!

 

The patter of rain was heard on the roof,

The gutters began to fill,

The windows washed of their dust and silt

Right down to the window-sill,

The dust was settled, the ground was wet,

The cattle lowed in the field,

And everyone danced in the yard out there

The tide of their fortunes sealed.

 

The rain grew heavier by the hour,

The creeks had started to flow,

And even the reservoir burst its banks,

With nowhere else to go,

The water flooded across the plain

They waded up to their knees,

‘Enough, enough!’ But Malone replied:

‘Begorra, you’re hard to please!’

 

It rained all night, and the following day,

It rained and rained for a week,

The pub was flooded from wall to wall

The water burst from the creek,

‘You’ve got to stop it,’ the barman cried,

But the tinker stood and frowned,

‘If the water rises much higher than this,

I think that we’ll all be drowned!’

 

‘You said you wanted the rain, all right,

I gave it, now for my pay,

I can’t go on in these tattered clothes

And my car’s a give-away.

I’ll need the van that you’ve parked out front

And a hundred cans of beer,

Not much to ask for your water, chum,

At the drought time of the year!’

 

The barman collared and kicked him out

With his bag and all beside,

The tinker lay in the water there,

His bag had sunk in the tide,

‘Will you stop it now,’ the barman said,

‘Or you’ll wish you’d never been born!’

I can’t!’ The tinker sat and he cried,

‘You’ve drowned my Leprechaun!’

 

It rains and rains at Innaminck,

It rains both day and night,

The pub sank under the water there

In a lake that’s ten miles wide,

The farmers had to desert the land

To leave their sunken homes,

But put out a ‘Wanted’, Nation wide

For a tinker, called Malone!

 

David Lewis Paget

© 2012 David Lewis Paget


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Featured Review

I am so glad I read this tonight it was fabulous far beyond most you do it was as good as the demon horse of the carousel ./But once you come to expect such things from another you tend to take them for granted. Your imagination shames a ten year old and excites all the rest.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Too many darn leprechauns in the UK obviously!
I really enjoyed this enchanting fantastical tale. Brilliant :)

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I haven't stalked you to find out the details of your life, but I do hope you make a living from writing. You truly are a professional. I enjoyed this very much- it reads as a mythical tale that explains how the isle came to be :)

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

David, me bard, you've made me smile. I wish I could find that leprechaun some summers here in Texas to! What a treat.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Brilliant, enthralling and humour too....You are a true talent.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A balad of a poem and gives 'War and Peace@ a run for its money! Very entertaining and well put together and enjoyable Irish mischief!

Posted 11 Years Ago


3 of 3 people found this review constructive.


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779 Views
15 Reviews
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Shelved in 1 Library
Added on August 19, 2012
Last Updated on August 19, 2012
Tags: tinker, blarney, schooner, wheels

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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