The Snail Trail

Travelling with my home on my back and in no hurry to get anywhere


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The Pontville Party

The theme was pink and purple 

In the Pontville Party tent

And we dressed for the occasion,

Looking good was our intent.

We decorated tables

In purple and in pink

And played with colouring our hair

Asking friends “What do you think?”

And when we turned up for the “do”

We had our nibbles on our plates,

And we also had a drink or two

To share with all our mates. 

The Baker Boys performed for us

And they played long and loud.

The dancers surged to the dance floor,

It was a happy party crowd.

I finally made my way back home

My wine bottle the worse for wear,

I danced my way through the pristine grass

I didn’t have a care!

That all changed when I reached my van

And bent to fix my solar light –

I forgot to stop when I leant down

And a dramatic face plant ended my night. 

I hope no one saw me-

It was not a pretty sight –

My pride was hurt more than my head

And all because of that stupid light!

To continue the colour theme of the night

My eye is turning purple, not pink

And like Pete and Trish, Rally Managers

I’m swearing off the drink!
Rosemary Robinson 

March 2017

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leeches


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That Bloody Leech!

What did I do on Halloween Eve?
The answer you may not want to know
Because I made a quiche – and squashed a leech –
I tell you, everything was all go!

I rifled through the recipe book,
(I had made the quiche before),
But the leech was a surprise to me
When I squashed him on the floor.

I was busy at the kitchen bench
Cutting up the silver beet
When I stepped away and something squished
Beneath my clumsy feet.

A little bit of fetta cheese
Was what I thought of first
But when I saw the mess I’d made
My God, this leech had a thirst!

He’d gorged himself upon my blood
Until he was bloated and fat
And when he could fit not another drop in
He let go of my leg and went splat!

The blood shot across the kitchen floor
On the cupboards, the oven and wall
And ran down my leg where the blood sucker had been
Until his fat bloody body did fall.

Apart from it feeling disgusting
To have your blood sucked out by a leech,
It leaves behind a reminder
– A little hole with one hell of an itch!

So what did I do on Halloween Eve?
Well, I did finish making the quiche
And I washed the kitchen from top to toe
Thanks to the mess from that bloody leech.


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The Big Bang Theory

This is my version of the Big Bang Theory…. take one hairy huntsman spider, watch him run under the fridge, hold can of insect spray and spray liberally under the (gas) fridge. KABOOM! Fell out of my van backwards running around yelling Holy Shit! and beating out my eyebrows. No great damage done and one huge lesson learned …. and I still don’t know where the spider is!!

 The Big Bang Theory

A hairy huntsman spider
Came visiting one day
And I knew I wouldn’t be happy
Until I’d hit him with insect spray.

I kept my eye upon him
As he wandered to and fro,
And I reached carefully for the killer can ….
He really had to go!

I think he knew what was happening
As he scampered across the floor
And I pressed the nozzle of the spray
Once, twice, and then once more.

He now became quite erratic
As he staggered around the room
Looking for a hidey-hole –
But I got him – yep- KABOOM!

You see, he skittered under the fridge
Thinking he was clever,
But I was so much smarter than he
He was off to the Never Never!

Unfortunately, I soon found out
Insect spray and gas combined
Create a mighty explosion
Of the fiery, blue flame kind!

I think my eyebrows will grow back
And my pride will heal I’m sure
Because when the gas exploded
I was thrown clean out the door!

My heart was palpitating
As I scrabbled off the ground,
Holy Shit! were the words I stuttered
As I ran round and round.

Well, I’m camped beside this river,
There’s not another soul in sight,
Who would think that a hairy spider
Would give me such a fright..

I’m blaming him for the mighty bang
(I was lucky no damage was done)
And the spider might now be vaporised
But I concede – This battle he won!!

Rosemary Robinson
February 2017


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Solos Travellers of the West

Thank you Willie Wagtails
The Solos of the west
The travel’s been spectacular
Your friendship’s been the best

Some of you I’ve travelled with
Others met along the track
And although I’m heading east now
I know that I’ll be back.

From the Kimberleys to Lucky Bay
West Australia is so vast
And I’ve loved every bit of it
This trip won’t be my last.

The friends I’ve made along the way
Have added to my pleasure
And now I’m leaving WA
With memories I will treasure.

From the red sand of the Pilbara
To the white sands of Lucky Bay
I’ve shared these great experiences
With Willie Wagtails on the way.

So thank you for your friendship
And your great company
I’m reluctant to depart your shores
But the east coast beckons me.

And if you travel to ‘the dark side’
I know we’ll meet once more
And Solos hugs will welcome you
When you’re on Australia’s eastern shore.

Rosemary Robinson
January 2016


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Silent Sentinels

Crosses by the road side
Silent sentinels of death
That mark the place that someone
Took their final breath.

Some are festooned with flowers,
Others starkly bare,
And the names engraved upon them
Remind us who perished there.

A moment’s inattention,
Sometimes fuelled by drugs or booze,
With no thought of any danger
Or expecting life to lose.

Grief stricken friends and family
Pick up the pieces of their lives
And struggle bravely to continue
Without husbands, kids or wives.

The crosses are reminders
To focus on the drive
And be aware of all around us
So we arrive alive.

Rosemary Robinson August 2015


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Ragin’ in Wagin

This poem was written to promote the CMCA Solos Rally in Wagin, Western Australia in October 2015 and was shared at our Penola Rally in South Australia in March 2015

We’ll be ragin’ in Wagin
The Solos Rally in the West
Where the wild flowers are spectacular
And the beaches are the best.
And whether you come over the top
Or across the Nullabor
You’ll find that Western Australia
Has amazing things in store.

From the pure white sandy beaches
That you’ll see at Cape Le Grande,
To the rugged cliffs of Kalbarri
And the red earth of the inland.
The National Parks provide great camps
And it’s not hard to find free sites,
Where fellow travellers meet for fun
To enjoy the starry nights.

The country towns are friendly
The station stays a must
But the wind blows strong on the west coast
And you’ll never get rid of red dust.
Yet the dust’s like a badge of honour,
It says you’ve travelled far,
And you’ve ventured on those long dirt roads
And not stuck to the tar.

So make the trip to Wagin
Enjoy your journey on the way
Gather lots of great experiences
And we’ll see you in WA!


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Max the Mad Rooter

Note: If your name is Max and you are not a lanky poodle crossed with a cocker spaniel, this poem is not about you!

Max, the Mad Rooter, turned up in town
Where he focused his eyes on wee Jock
And thought “Here’s a likely partner”
Didn’t matter they both had a cock!

Well, Jock didn’t like the attention
And leapt up on his own little chair
But Max wasn’t put off so easily
He was happy just humping the air.

So Jock thought “I’m safe”, and jumped down to the ground
But Max thought “Now, here’s my chance”
And he kept humping and jumping as Jock ran around
And led Max a fine merry dance.

When Max, the Mad Rooter, left Salmon Gums
Jock could finally relax in his chair
He was safe from unwanted attention
And could again freely run anywhere.

Max moved to the next camp location
And searched for new partners to hump
And Val would keep saying ” Don’t do that!”
And give him a tap on the rump.

But Max, the Mad Rooter, could not be deterred
Even though he was, in fact, neutered,
He continued to hump whenever he could
‘Til at the end of the day he was rooted!