A poem written in memory of Bub Emery!
A mailman has a thankless job,
No truer words were spoken yet
A million things to memorise
And God help if you forget.
Along the corrugated roads
In summer heat or winter cold
Through mud, mirage, or bulldust deep,
You watch the endless miles unfold.
The man we knew who drove the mail
With many a high and heavy load,
Earned love, respect and gratitude,
Along the Moombidary Road.
So many extra favours done
Without a thought of recompense
“Of course it’s not a trouble mate
What! Me? take payment have some sense.”
“You want to pay me for the ride?
Now, look here, don’t let’s argue mate!
Enjoy your company.
Besides you opened every flaming gate!”
His cheerfulness and kindly deeds,
Are held within our memory
And sadly missed by all of us,
Is our good mate “Bub” Emery.
(These inadequate but sincere lines require no signature. They are meant to express the thoughts of many people who knew and respected the late Mr. Emery. and especially those people along his mail run, who have reason to be grateful for his kindness and cheery good – will.)
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