The Passing Of Peter Sheahan (25/6/63 - 27/12/24)

You've heard of true-blue Aussies who toil out in the heat.
They don't come any truer than Midway's Poet Pete.

Of all the dinkum farmers who breathe the Midway air -
hard yakka beef and cane men -
our Pete was called the Mayor.

Some years the bank was broken by cyclones, drought or rain.
Yet season after season - he'd up and go again.

Pete gifted me the magic - I use it all the time -
of painting Abergowrie by putting words in rhyme.

But waking up this morning - the earth began to shake.
My eyes were filled with water - I felt a gutting ache.

To think of Peter passing - I cannot contemplate.
I never thought I'd lose him, my rhyming bushy mate.

I can't believe it's happened. I can't believe he's gone.
It's hard to find a comfort in Peter passing on.

We've lost the Mayor of Midway, I've my old mate Pete -
I'm not so sure the frothies will ever be as sweet.

I'll see him at the river, and down at Midway Creek,
or way up in the mountains - at Abergowrie’s peak.

I'll see him in the canefields, or when my eyes are shut,
and where we crossed the Herbert - to fish at Brucey’s hut.

When mist descends on Gowrie, and morning light is pale,
I'll feel his spirit with me - where heaven spreads its vale.

We shared a love of Ireland - a place I'd never been.
But Peter’s tales inspired me to see that emerald green.

I'd give up all the poems - I'd give up all the rhymes,
to see him back at Midway - reliving happy times.

His sleep is now eternal, and just to Ingham's west,
by Midway’s rushing water - he'll take his final rest.

But loved ones never leave us - they never can depart
from what we hold inside us - the place we call the heart.

By Jonny Paul of Abergowrie.
Written 28/12/2024.

Author's Note: Peter Sheahan reached out to me when I moved to Abergowrie, took me under his wing - and gave me the gift of poetry.

Thanks for the laughs Pete, thanks for the beers, and thanks for the rhymes. You are dearly missed, though we’ll carry you with us always. Rest in peace my old mate. This poem is for you.