Homework June 2025 'Remember Love'
Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2025 4:34 pm
Remember Love?
Remember love those days outback, the lonely camps, the dusty track,
and how we fell beneath the spell that’s always waiting there.
It touched us both there from day one out on that distant station run,
a wild and ancient land of dreams to which we longed to share.
Our home at first out on the flat, a rough old tent and glad of that,
with roaring fires to beat the chill each frosty winters night.
For even deserts can be cold - and frosts are something to behold,
with water turned to ice and everything is coated white.
We’d snuggle up to beat the chill - those freezing times remembered still,
with nights so calm and clear as twinkling stars stared coldly down.
And even on our daily tramp a freezing wind would stalk our camp,
awaiting us at daybreak as we’d start to look around.
Then long cold nights begin to wane and soon the warmth arrives again,
no extra blanket needed now that spring has just begun.
And iced up windscreens are soon past, with balmy days now back at last,
for winters been and gone, and old Jack Frost is on the run.
The months then years flew swiftly past we’d found Nirvana here at last,
with breakaways and rolling hills, salt lakes and shady trees.
A peaceful place to search for gold for those like us who dared be bold,
while free out here to lead our lives whichever way we please.
We sought new places every week, then found good gold at Cripple Creek,
although contentment known here was the highlight of those days.
With solitude and peace of mind prized more than any golden find,
to just be there - a time to treasure in so many ways.
The goldfields stretched for countless miles, a place of hope and daily smiles,
and if you choose the rovers life you really can be free.
You loved it there and so did I, how could we ever say goodbye,
for here awaits the kind of life – so loved by you and me
We never will forget those years – though times have changed and old age nears,
for they were days we rose above – the mundane norm – remember love?
*****
©T.E. Piggott
Page 2 of 2
Remember love those days outback, the lonely camps, the dusty track,
and how we fell beneath the spell that’s always waiting there.
It touched us both there from day one out on that distant station run,
a wild and ancient land of dreams to which we longed to share.
Our home at first out on the flat, a rough old tent and glad of that,
with roaring fires to beat the chill each frosty winters night.
For even deserts can be cold - and frosts are something to behold,
with water turned to ice and everything is coated white.
We’d snuggle up to beat the chill - those freezing times remembered still,
with nights so calm and clear as twinkling stars stared coldly down.
And even on our daily tramp a freezing wind would stalk our camp,
awaiting us at daybreak as we’d start to look around.
Then long cold nights begin to wane and soon the warmth arrives again,
no extra blanket needed now that spring has just begun.
And iced up windscreens are soon past, with balmy days now back at last,
for winters been and gone, and old Jack Frost is on the run.
The months then years flew swiftly past we’d found Nirvana here at last,
with breakaways and rolling hills, salt lakes and shady trees.
A peaceful place to search for gold for those like us who dared be bold,
while free out here to lead our lives whichever way we please.
We sought new places every week, then found good gold at Cripple Creek,
although contentment known here was the highlight of those days.
With solitude and peace of mind prized more than any golden find,
to just be there - a time to treasure in so many ways.
The goldfields stretched for countless miles, a place of hope and daily smiles,
and if you choose the rovers life you really can be free.
You loved it there and so did I, how could we ever say goodbye,
for here awaits the kind of life – so loved by you and me
We never will forget those years – though times have changed and old age nears,
for they were days we rose above – the mundane norm – remember love?
*****
©T.E. Piggott
Page 2 of 2
