The Christmas Gift
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The Christmas Gift
This is an old one not sure if it was ever posted before.
It's a true story - Terry
THE CHRISTMAS GIFT
That Christmas seemed a little grim, the outlook pretty bleak,
the opal gods had turned their backs - had done so all that week.
A little patch of opal now would ease their fiscal pain
and help to tide them over, until good times came again.
Tomorrow would be Christmas and their cupboard was near bare,
a rusty can of Heinz baked beans was all that's left in there.
The two young mates though down on luck still worked a solid day
and set a final blasting once they’d cleared the dirt away.
Then headed into town to spend the last few bob they had,
they’d only get necessities as things were now quite bad.
There’d be no fancy food or drinks to offer Christmas cheer;
no midday roast and pudding, or a special toast with beer.
Next morning saw them readying to catch up with a mate,
who was as broke as they were, but would share their meager plate.
And though the meal was plain; as far as Christmas feasting goes,
the day was still enjoyable despite impending woes.
Some card games helped to pass the hours and added to the fun,
the mate then told their fortunes, dealing cards out one by one.
Foretelling of a change of luck that soon will head their way
and they should go and check their mine for opal there that day.
Although good-natured laughter greeted comments that he made,
they headed out to have a look, at least there’d be some shade.
The day was hot and stifling as they reached their Flat Hill mine,
their York hoist stood there proudly, somewhat like a metal shrine.
They quickly clambered down the shaft to coolness down below
and then switched on their makeshift lights, that gave a golden glow.
Long drives stretched out into the gloom where shadows danced about
and eighty feet down underground shuts outside noises out.
They made for where the shot had been and brought along a light
and stood there in their disbelief at such a wondrous sight.
Large seams of brilliant opal were now showing in the face,
their eyes were bright and shiny as they stared into that space.
Here opals flashing red with greens and sparkling gold and blue
and all the colours known to man were laid out there on view.
This Christmas had bestowed a gift of beauty bright and rare,
just at a time when all seemed lost - the opal gods played fair.
******
© T.E Piggott
It's a true story - Terry
THE CHRISTMAS GIFT
That Christmas seemed a little grim, the outlook pretty bleak,
the opal gods had turned their backs - had done so all that week.
A little patch of opal now would ease their fiscal pain
and help to tide them over, until good times came again.
Tomorrow would be Christmas and their cupboard was near bare,
a rusty can of Heinz baked beans was all that's left in there.
The two young mates though down on luck still worked a solid day
and set a final blasting once they’d cleared the dirt away.
Then headed into town to spend the last few bob they had,
they’d only get necessities as things were now quite bad.
There’d be no fancy food or drinks to offer Christmas cheer;
no midday roast and pudding, or a special toast with beer.
Next morning saw them readying to catch up with a mate,
who was as broke as they were, but would share their meager plate.
And though the meal was plain; as far as Christmas feasting goes,
the day was still enjoyable despite impending woes.
Some card games helped to pass the hours and added to the fun,
the mate then told their fortunes, dealing cards out one by one.
Foretelling of a change of luck that soon will head their way
and they should go and check their mine for opal there that day.
Although good-natured laughter greeted comments that he made,
they headed out to have a look, at least there’d be some shade.
The day was hot and stifling as they reached their Flat Hill mine,
their York hoist stood there proudly, somewhat like a metal shrine.
They quickly clambered down the shaft to coolness down below
and then switched on their makeshift lights, that gave a golden glow.
Long drives stretched out into the gloom where shadows danced about
and eighty feet down underground shuts outside noises out.
They made for where the shot had been and brought along a light
and stood there in their disbelief at such a wondrous sight.
Large seams of brilliant opal were now showing in the face,
their eyes were bright and shiny as they stared into that space.
Here opals flashing red with greens and sparkling gold and blue
and all the colours known to man were laid out there on view.
This Christmas had bestowed a gift of beauty bright and rare,
just at a time when all seemed lost - the opal gods played fair.
******
© T.E Piggott
Last edited by Terry on Tue Dec 25, 2012 9:18 am, edited 2 times in total.
- Maureen K Clifford
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Re: The Christmas Gift
Beautiful Terry - great work and all the better for being true
Merry Christmas mate
Cheers
Maureen
Merry Christmas mate
Cheers
Maureen
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
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I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
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Re: The Christmas Gift
..Yep Terry, the hair stood up on my neck then, the little bit of opal mining I have done is enough for me to appreciate this to the max! have a good Xmas mate!
Ross
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Re: The Christmas Gift
Goodonya Terry. Have a safe trip, enjoy the family.



Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
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Re: The Christmas Gift
Thanks Maureen,
Hope you also have an enjoyable Christmas.
Cheers Terry
G/day Ross,
I was thinking of you and your soon to be new home as we passed the turnoff on the way over.
We plan to do the Streaky Bay loop as we head back in Feb.
It's funny you know I spent over 6 years opal mining and that's the only poem I've written about it so far, probably because it was in my early days and the gold prospecting was current. Mind you I have some great memories of those days and must try to write a few poems about them, there's certainly no shortage of ideas and stories to tell.
I hope you and your family have a great Christmas mate.
Terry
Thanks Neville,
All the best for the festive season - hope to catch up with you at Tamworth.
Cheers Terry
Hope you also have an enjoyable Christmas.
Cheers Terry
G/day Ross,
I was thinking of you and your soon to be new home as we passed the turnoff on the way over.
We plan to do the Streaky Bay loop as we head back in Feb.
It's funny you know I spent over 6 years opal mining and that's the only poem I've written about it so far, probably because it was in my early days and the gold prospecting was current. Mind you I have some great memories of those days and must try to write a few poems about them, there's certainly no shortage of ideas and stories to tell.
I hope you and your family have a great Christmas mate.
Terry
Thanks Neville,
All the best for the festive season - hope to catch up with you at Tamworth.
Cheers Terry
- Peely
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Re: The Christmas Gift
G'day Terry
There is a slip in the tense that has crept in to one of the lines:
I enjoyed the poem.
Regards
John Peel
There is a slip in the tense that has crept in to one of the lines:
You have gone from past tense in the rest of the poem to present tense in this line. It should be an easy one to fix though.Terry wrote:a rusty can of Heinz baked beans is all that’s left in there.
I enjoyed the poem.
Regards
John Peel
John Peel - The Man from Gilmore Creek
- Glenny Palmer
- Posts: 1816
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Re: The Christmas Gift
...and this seam is located where..??
Good one Terry. A message of hope, for Christmas.
Just to march with the pedantics....this is a good tip for everyone. When 'usual' (3 sylls) gets stuck in where only 2 sylls are required, good old 'normal' does the job.
Cheeers
Glenny

Just to march with the pedantics....this is a good tip for everyone. When 'usual' (3 sylls) gets stuck in where only 2 sylls are required, good old 'normal' does the job.
Cheeers
Glenny
The purpose of my life is to serve as a warning to others.
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Re: The Christmas Gift
Thanks John,
Being an old poem I had a quick glance through it a couple of hours before posting it and noticed the same thing, then completely forgot it again when posting it later. Thanks for reminding me.
Cheers Terry
Being an old poem I had a quick glance through it a couple of hours before posting it and noticed the same thing, then completely forgot it again when posting it later. Thanks for reminding me.
Cheers Terry
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Re: The Christmas Gift
G/day Glenny,
You've caught me out on one of my more common mistakes, this may be an old poem but I still sometimes accidentally use a three syllable words as a two syllable one, most recently I used RITUAL as a two syllable word for some reason.
Are you going to Tamworth this year Glenny?
I'm dragging Valma along this year so hope it's not too hot as we are out in the open with our van.
Regards and hope you have a great festive season.
Terry
You've caught me out on one of my more common mistakes, this may be an old poem but I still sometimes accidentally use a three syllable words as a two syllable one, most recently I used RITUAL as a two syllable word for some reason.
Are you going to Tamworth this year Glenny?
I'm dragging Valma along this year so hope it's not too hot as we are out in the open with our van.
Regards and hope you have a great festive season.
Terry
- Glenny Palmer
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Re: The Christmas Gift
....probably not Terry (whaaa) as croc is extremely ill...(but he hasn't lost his 'fire'...as in firing off his 'passionate' opinions...as you may have seen in a post he made today...oh dear.) But you enjoy it to the max, mate. Thank you for your good wishes.
Cheeers
Glenny
Cheeers
Glenny
The purpose of my life is to serve as a warning to others.