ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Boyhood Memories

I close my eyes and see it as it once was long ago;
the old farmhouse at Marbleup, and love I used to know.
Here Grandma lived for most her life; yet all that now remains -
are ghost’s of lifetimes past – the rattle of the passing trains

I dream too of the shady paths that wound through timbered hills;
relive again those years of youth with all its joy and thrills.
If I could only rewind time I’d do it in a trice,
no matter what the risk may be, I’d gladly pay the price.

For life was at its best back then; at least it was for me,
to stay at Grandma’s place there was a favoured place to be.
The yellow gleam of candles then would softly cast their glow
to gently lift the shadows in those rooms so long ago

I see again the river where we swam in times long gone,
inviting in the summer but a torrent later on.
Birds flittered through the wattle that had grown along the track;
the raging waters of the rapids - pools so deep and black

We’d roam out through the forest, where as kids we used to play,
and drink the sweetest water from the streams along the way.
It seemed this life would never end and would forever be -
viewed through the eyes of children – still too innocent to see.

I look to where the old house stood with sadness yet with joy,
for here among the memories I see a happy boy.
Who still recalls today, the taste of grandma’s apple pie,
and as I turn to leave, it’s hard to have to say goodbye.

© T.E. Piggott

Oh that brings a tear to the eye Terry - lovely capture of the memories of childhood, and Gran's place was always special IMO - Grans back then weren't the social gadabouts that today's Grans are. They really did cook beautiful meals, made from next to nothing, often in the old wood stoves as well - monsters that they are - and their homes were always redolent with their lovely cooking and preserving.

You made excellent use of the prompts in your lovely poem

Just lovely, Terry! I felt all the poignancy and (to coin a phrase) "persistence of memory" in your poem.

Cheers
Shelley

Thanks Maureen and Shelley
My grand parents had a small farm at Marbleup, there was just a small railway siding there, but no town as such.
There were quite a few fruit trees including some old Dunn apple trees, their fruit was really tart to eat raw,
but made wonderful apple pies, I've not tasted their equal since.
You're right Maureen the Grandma's of those days were as you said and wonderful cooks, just using their old wood stoves.

Cheers Terry

Good on ya Terry, that's very well written, simple and direct language for the most impact. You bring out a strong sense of your feelings for those days, such as the reference to the candles.

It is personal but I think the personal is what makes poetry.

Just beautiful, Terry - so evocative and poignant, and as always you paint the picture so clearly. Love this poem!

Thanks Neville & Catherine

I guess we try to try to tell things as near as possible to how we remember them - well I do anyway.
I can still recall those days exactly as they were - and that was a long, long time ago.

Cheers Terry