For the word had got around

That the Bishop was arriving for the day.

Patched marquees were brought to light,

On a spot of even ground

And the fences were all down and put away.

There were trestles for the tea things,

For the cakes and buttered scones

And old bathtubs full of ice to cool the beer.

They’d cut the grass and cleared the stings,

Fallen logs and scattered stones

When up the track they heard the cry, "All clear!"

The crowd fell hushed and held its breath,

You could fell the heartbeats strain

As the starter’s flag began to slice the air.

When suddenly the sky was cleft,

And it started pelting rain

From thunder bolts that caused a bloody scare.

The single flash of lightning gold,

Had set the horses pace ablaze

As they shot off through the mud with buzzing grins.

Their motley crew of riders bold,

Though garbed in many fancy ways

Laughed aloud and galloped hard against the wind.

The buddhist farmer made a dash,

With a dreamer close behind him

And the cowgirl in party dress and hat.

They passed the hippies in a flash,

Left the pony club to swim,

As neck’n’neck they galloped down the flat.

The tent was bursting at the seams,

As the horses blundered past it

And the soaking mob let out a soggy roar.

The rainbow girl was out of dreams,

The farmer’s mare had done her bit

When the cowgirl’s pony splashed into the fore.

Slapping her hat like a drover,

She was leading towards the line

With mud and raindrops fuelling her fire.

The race for the cup was over,

The Bishop had opened the wine

To toast the gallant winners wreathed in mire.