ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I have used an old photo of a town over here that’s now long gone.
In my enthusiasm I forgot I was supposed to use at least one of the prompts,
Sorry about that. But at least some of the lines do go close in meaning at least.

Niagara

It’s all long-gone course with only scattered debris left to see,
as a poignant last reminder where a town once used to be.
So while looking at this photo now, I realise what’s been lost,
for its past has faded into history, like others to our cost.

I am sitting by the dry creek bed that gave this town its name,
and the waterfall that formed a pool here added to its fame.
It’s a sacred place for local tribes; revered still to this day,
and where rumours tell of blood once shed, to drive the whites away.

Then my mind begins to wander to the days when gold was king,
and the miners chased a golden dream and hopeful hearts would sing.
As these dusty streets once sounded to the drum of tramping feet,
and where rumours echoed through the many pubs that lined the street.

I now sit here lost in thought near where this town once used to be,
and I find it hard to visualize with few clues left to see.
For this country has reverted to the way it was before,
and it’s only now in memory this town may live once more.

As I daydream here, I see it there, the way it used to be,
like a door into the past had opened briefly now for me.
But this vision was just fleeting; soon reality returned,
and I viewed the scene around me; there was much to still be learned.

As the dusk begins to creep in and the shadows have grown long,
there’s a sense of loss that touches me; somehow it seems so wrong.
Soon the last few strands of memory will then have taken flight,
and what happened here forgotten like a whisper in the night.

© T E Piggott

I know what it is like Terry. You get to the stage where there are so many places that " used to be" and sadly it can be that we can't talk with people who would remember, because they have also gone . We are left alone with the memories.

Thanks Neville
You're right, there are so many small towns throughout western Australia that no longer exists, In the goldfields alone dozens have disappeared.
Niagara was quite a substantial town, it's twin Kookynie was just a few miles up the road, and between them there were several thousand residents in their heyday. Kookynie still exists, well the pub (The Grand)does anyway.
Niagara had the added bonus of a reliable natural water hole that nature dug out over the eons. the high country that surrounds mostly drained in to the main creek (on the odd occasions that it rains). The force of water above the pool had formed a waterfall and the wags of the Eighteen nineties couldn't resist calling it Niagara. In the early days this was strongly defended by the local tribe, it being the most substantial more or less permanent water, in an otherwise very dry part of the country.

Good one Terry and nicely crafted - don't worry about not using the prompts - they are after all just that, not set in concrete and not everyone uses salt in a recipe

Nevilles comment was particularly pertinent as well - one of the reasons I don't bother to go 'on holidays' ... why bother when there is no one to share the memories with. I like the way the story has been woven around the memories

Another poignant word-picture, Terry - and I agree with your comments and Neville's (and Maureen's) about the loss of memory-keepers over time.

So many forgotten stories!

Thanks Maureen

The downside of having lived this long, is that most of our old friends and contacts are now gone.
But still we have our memories, and there's nothing wrong in venturing into the past once in awhile.
As I did with the story behind this poem.

Terry

Thanks Shelley

Nothing last forever I guess, I worry these days about the loss of this country's past.
It sometime appears that there is an organised effort to expunge parts of it.

But as we all have been saying; why a few of us still have long memories some stories will continue to live.

Terry

Love this, Terry - you can almost hear the tramping feet and crowded pubs and certainly feel the poignancy of what's been lost. There are some great lines, and I particularly love the last stanza. As I read this, I felt as if I were actually sitting there beside you at the dry creek bed reflecting on those times gone by - and the fact that you have achieved this for any reader proves that it's a wonderful poem!

Thanks Catherine

There were so many small towns like Niagara that boomed for a few years with quite large populations
then slowly died as the gold ran out. Niagara lasted longer than many, but eventually it's time ran out.

But as I mentioned I forgot I was supposed to have used at least one of the prompts.

Terry