Silver Spur's Secret

[thestoryteller]

SILVER SPUR’S SECRET

Those roaring days, oh, Silver Spur
when mining brought your birth,
among the hills you came to life
men flocked to seek your worth
From far and wide the fam’lies came,
yet sadly paid the toll.
So many little souls you’d claim,
their gravesites with no hint of name
and scattered ‘long the knoll.

One solitary wrought iron frame
though stands out from the rest.
An adult’s grave, but all the same
no name does it suggest.
For many years we searched to find
great grand-ma’s resting place,
a gentle soul, so loving kind
whose words were always never mind
enwrapped with smiling face.

Old Wollombi shared childhood years
until you said adieu
while Murrurundi heard you say
to your young man, “I do.”
You bore a fam’ly of thirteen
though two sweet girls you lost.
With husband Michael you were seen
to keep your children fed and clean,
no matter what the cost.

Australia’s bush was your backyard,
it’s gums and wattles too.
While life in tents was kind of hard,
no harsh words came from you.
Then suddenly your Michael died,
you carried on alone.
A bush nurse you would always ride
kind midwife by a young mum’s side,
your caring was well known.

With fam’ly grown and spread like seed
that carries in the breeze,
your weary soul then felt the need
to rest, to be at ease.
For years we knew not where you were
our search though did not cease.
With many folk we did confer,
then learnt your secret Silver Spur;
dear Catherine rest in peace.

© Merv Webster

From the book A Muster of Australiana