My Friend the Yowie – David Anderson
10My Friend the Yowie
David Anderson
Woodford, NSW
While walking below the Three Sisters one day,
Through the mist a tall bloke came heading my way,
I said, ‘Mate, how come you’re so bloody tall?
I’d hate to face you in a bar room brawl.’
He said, ‘I’m hungry. You got something to eat?’
I laughed. ‘Where’d you get those huge hairy feet?’
‘I’m a Yowie, Son, don’t you understand?’
he said, as he reached and held my left hand.
‘I’m lonely, where’s a girl to be my sweet wife?’
My other hand reached for my Swiss Army knife.
‘I’d be your friend, but then I would worry,
That I could end up in a Yowie curry.’
He laughed. ‘I can’t cook to save my own skin’
I relaxed and said, ‘ Don’t you have any kin?
No brothers or sisters, parents, or mates,
To line you up with some promising dates?’
‘That’s the problem, Son,’ he sadly replied.
‘You see, every last one of them has up and died
Now what do you say, will you be my friend
And bring my solitude to an end?’
I assumed a facade of being really brave,
When he lead me to his Mt Solitary cave.
I said, ‘Living like this could send you quite mad,’
He hung his head low with a look oh so sad,
His eyes welled up, and he started to weep.
‘In Megalong, they blame me for killing the sheep.
But I’ll tell you true, that’s no work of mine,
That’s the black panther living in the Jamison mine.’
I said to him. ‘Mate, now I understand.’
And smiling, I hugged his huge hairy hand.
‘We’ll get your story on Sydney TV,
when people meet you they will plainly see …’
Then I stopped, and knew that if this I tried,
My new found friend would be crucified.
In a lab, by scientists and ASIO
There must be more safer ways for us to go.
Well I tried to think of what I could do
I don’t want to see him in Taronga Zoo
So I brought him some things to enjoy a new life
A fridge, plates, spoon, a fork and a knife.
A solar panel for electricity,
a satellite dish, a colour TV.
Laptop with broadband, a stove that he’ll brew
A nice pot of tea, and some wallaby stew.
He’s even on Facebook, as large as you please
Aussie friends by the thousands, and some overseas.
Makes girls want to meet him and see the real deal
But wait till they meet him – and his photo is real!
My friend the Yowie, he’s nine feet tall.
You’d hate to face him, in a bar room brawl
But now he’s happy, ’cause I’m his best friend
And he’ll never face loneliness, ever again.
Bio: David says that friends were talking about the legend of the Yowie and the black panther in the Blue Mountains. As he often walks the Federal Pass, it inspired this poem of someone meeting a Yowie.
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Yowie that's a good'un Dave! Did I ever tell youse about the silver Bunyip?… blah, blah. blah
Thank you Arturo. I think the yowie did tell me about that Bunyip!
Wonderfully entertaining David.
Thank you JHM
This poem reeks of an old person trying to be creative to me. To other readers, it's probably a bloody beauty. <br /><br />
Thanks Karl
Love it David, your a man of many talents.<br />X<br />A
Thank you Aileen
David, another good poem from you. Loved it as usual. Made me wonder if you had read my account on my Facebook page of the black panther my wife and I both saw on March 29, 1969 along McMahon’s Lookout Road near “High Valley”. People to this day reckon we are mad, but we know what we saw. Just a shame we didn’t have a camera to prove it to the sceptics.
Phil Sorry I’m over three years late, I didn’t see this before. I believe you . quite a few people swear to it and weren’t even drinking