On Reflection

ON REFLECTION
I think back to the days of yore,
Sledging out firewood using an axe and saw,
With our bush and those native trees,
Working early mornings with frosts we'd freeze.

There and back with each ton load,
Bringing it out and stacking by the road,
Spelling the horses every now and then,
Battling the elements again and again.

With hands frozen until after nine,
Splinters weren't noticed until the sun did shine,
Then you'd notice what had been done,
Working without gloves really wasn't fun.

Times were tough the work never stopped,
Dawn to dusk we'd go till we dropped,
Heavy that wood we handled it twice,
Onto the sledge and then stacked it nice

Five ton stacks all measured and split,
Yes we handled every single bit,
Through the mud with loads chained tight,
Determination and skill meant we'd got it right.

Day after day this was our lot,
Orders were met we worked at a trot,
Wind and rain made the work tough,

By the evening we'd really had enough.