Nick from Shady Creek

After a great weekend at the Henry Lawson Festival in Grenfell I felt inspired to have a crack at this poetry thing.......

 

His name was Papadopolous, but he went as Nick the Greek,

Or the bloke who ran the vegie garden down at Shady Creek.

He’d sailed out from the Islands, no money and no ties,

At least ten lifetimes ago in 1925.

 

At Sydney he met Jo from Shady Creek’s elite.

Her Dad a local hero no sport ever saw him beat.

She told Nick about her home’s clear stream and bright sun.

He had nowhere else he had to go, so Shady Creek - well it won.

 

He’d get a job, buy a block and join the Odd Fellows.

He’d raise vegies, work hard, grow old and mellow.

He’d find a wife, settle down and have some children.

He might try to become domesticated even.

 

So Papadopolous decided his life to revise.

Nick the Greek of Shady Creek would be his reprise.

As for a job, Jo’s Dad would be the first he’d ask.

If he was like her, work would be a pleasant task.

 

“Who da hell’s this greasy bloke”, the local hero squawked.

“Nick the Greek.” Said Jo. “He wants a job, a new start.”

“A wog in the shop.” The Hero said. “That ain’t gonna work.

No one’ll understand the curley headed jerk.”

 

“It’s OK Jo.” Said our Greek. “Your Dad doesn’t need the likes of me.

‘Cause I don’t look and sound the part I’ll go to plan B.

All I want’s a patch of dirt by the creek you said was near.

I’ll grow those greens I did at home and sell them to people here.”

 

The Hero snorted, “so the wog thinks he’s gonna steal me trade away?

I’m the local grocer, have been for years and many more I’ll stay.”

“Afraid of a bit of competition?” Asked Nick with a stinging tone.

“Me. I’m afraid of nuffin mate. Fear’s something this Hero don’t know.”

 

Nick replied “Excuse a simple foreign boy who’s not too canny,

But I’m sure “not nuffin” is not in the dictionary

Though, I am no expert and will defer to you.

As you have only one to concentrate on and I unfortunately have two.

 

With anger and steam the hero’s shade and height,

Both elevated sharply to a greater fahrenheit.

“Plant your bloody greens and rubbish, as if I care what you do.

But I don’t know where you’ll get seed – I won’t sell it to you.”

 

“So the land of opportunity is only that for some?

Not to worry, ‘cause I bought seeds from my Greek Mum.

For certain they won’t mind which soil they’re planted in.

And I’m sure the dirt and water will care even less than them.”

 

So what became of Nick the Greek? Much, but especially to note.

He married Jo, had ten kids and for mayor he won the vote.

The hero though never mellowed, acquiesced, forgave or bent.

His pride would not permit it, himself to Coventry he sent.

 

The moral, if there’s one, is around the choices we sometimes make

And if they don’t hit the mark how pride can stop us righting the mistake.