Weekend in Gunnedah.

Let’s have a look on the other side of the door on a weekend in Gunnedah. I thought this looked great, it is someone’s front gate. Beautiful.Door

A statue of Dorethea  Mackellar, a famous Australian poet known for ‘A Sunburnt Country.’ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dorothea_Mackellar it was only after I put these pictures up that I realised her first poem was ‘The Closed Door,’Dorothea Mackellar

Senior Constable Petah Devine, youth case manager at Armidale Police, is preventing Ms Kristy Bain of the Commonwealth bank at Gunnedah from escaping custody. Town notables were ’rounded up’ and placed in the lockup to collect money for the Police Youth Citizens Club. Go Petah.PetaKellie

I know I posted this everywhere else but Kellie Hunt is such a great fan of my Death series that she deserves another viewing. Taken at the Gunnedah Shire Library.Laurie and Kellie

I know, I know it’s a toilet block, so read the poem and you’ll find out why it’s featured today.

Gunnedah toilet block


by Laurie Smith.

Of all the toilets I have seen,

from London Town to Narrabeen

the most poetic yet by far,

you’ll find in downtown Gunnedah.

The Man from Snowy River on his heroic ride,

greats the weary traveller, when they pull up outside.

An epic piece by Patterson, who sowed my poetic seeds,

Enough, I thought I must go in and tend to my pressing needs.

The culture doesn’t stop, on the sparkling outside walls

you step inside and wonder at the verses in the stalls.

There’s one by Henry Lawson, on ‘Middleton’s Roustabout’

open the door and read, ‘he had the face of a country lout.’

Then we hear from Harry ‘Breaker’ Morant, a poet of notoriety,

bushman , stockman, soldier who led a life of great variety.

Upon the door the title, ‘When the country carried sheep’

(Australia grew off the Merino’s back,)

And we read of the trip ‘from Cunnamulla and on to the Eulo track.’

Now all the while you’re standing and attending to your needs,

Poetry is being read to you from hidden speaker feeds,

It’s something of a bother on when you first walk in,

“Now who the heck is speaking and what the heck’s this din?

It’s no different in the ladies’ loo, of that I have no doubt,

I didn’t wander in meself, I’m not a bleedin lout,

Instead I sent the missus in to do me task instead,

Taking the camera in her hand, ‘Oh this is doing in my head.’

I stood outside and waited, and explained it to the few

who tarried by the toilet block and said, ‘What do you do?’

“I’m a writer and a poet and this is my way of working,

Do you think I do this for a lark? Your leashes I’m not jerking.”

My wife returned with evidence, of further prose and verse.

Shoved the camera in my hand and said in a note so terse,

“Here you go my Darling, I hope you’re satisfied,

A woman came in and caught me. Oh God, I nearly died.”

There was verse by Louis Esson, who wrote, ‘The Shearer’s Wife,’

A tale of drudgery ‘n loneliness, a hardworking type of life,

‘Up North’ by Mary Hannay Foott, a tale of a woman’s fear,

Read it I beg and it will tell, of the loss of those so dear.

There’s ‘The Play’ by C J Dennis, read it all, it’s quite a hoot,

His quintessential Ockers, give old Shakespeare the boot.

The poem, ‘The women of the West, ‘by George Evans Essex,

Tells of the harsh unremitting life, of the colonial, fairer sex.

So there it is dear reader, I think you’ve heard it all,

of what you’ll find on the inside, of the hallowed toilet stall.

When next you stand and wash your hands in some toilet near

or far,

Remember the poets toilet, Down Under in Gunnedah.

Laurie Smith©2013


13 thoughts on “Weekend in Gunnedah.

  1. liz blackmore

    My friend I owe you something, a comment, I won’t rehearse
    You are indeed a poet, quite valid in your verse!
    I find the comment from your wife is rather quite revealing
    Of the lengths that artists go to when something is appealing.
    So thank you Laurie, for your works that awe and yes, inspire.
    I hope that I can copy you when at last Ican retire!

    Thank you once again for the post! Hugs to you!


    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks so much Liz, that was great, I love poetry and rhyme. Being on the road would give you inspiration, I hope you can retire soon with wealth and good health.
      Big bear Hugs back at ya.


    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks so much Raani, I have a collection lurking on my computer which I will bring out on my blog as I go. Might even do a dedicated page. I kind of kept it under my hat there, I’ve loved rhyme since I was a boy. So prepared to be surprised:-0


  2. kelihasablog

    😀 I love your poem! That is so well done, but I must say, that picture of the garden gate/door reminds me of my own visualization as a child of the door from the book “The Secret Garden”. Magnificent! 😀


    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks Keli, I like it to 🙂 The first thing I said to my wife when we stopped in front of that gate was, ‘It looks like it’s from the secret garden.’ Believe me the garden was very overgrown behind it.


  3. Joy V. Smith

    That is a beautiful gate, but what an impressive loo! I wonder whose idea it was to put up The Man from Snowy River art (I love that scene) and focus on the poetry. I appreciated the statue of the woman poet also. And your poem!


    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks Joy, the gate reminds me of a secret garden. Maybe ‘movement at the station’ had them thinking about it:-D It is amazing how many of these country towns have such cultural backgrounds. A poet’s loo, who would have thought? Thanks so much for dropping by.



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