Sunnyside
Posted: Sat Nov 27, 2010 1:48 pm
I picked up an Honourable Mention at the 2010 Toolangi CJ Dennis Poetry Competition (Adults Open Section) with this poem. (A little bit of history!)
‘Sunnyside’
© Stephen Whiteside 21.06.10
In the early years of the twentieth century, John Garibaldi Roberts, and his wife, Roberta, ran a colony for artists at their weekend retreat, ‘Sunnyside’, in South Sassafras (now Kallista) in the Dandenong Ranges, 40 km east of Melbourne.
It strikes me rather sadly, and reflects upon us badly,
That we’ve no collective mem’ry of those folks from ‘Sunnyside'.
We should swaddle them with rapture so eternally we capture
All their works and names and faces. They should make us swell with pride.
But we’re shallow and we’re rotten. All their details we’ve forgotten,
And the place itself is nothing but a sign, or some such thing.
Instead of genius espousing we have filled it up with housing.
It is dreary and suburban where our spirits high should sing.
But I should do some explaining, for I see I am not gaining
Any sympathy or ardour for the point I wish to make.
I will tell you very slowly why I think this place is holy.
I need clear comprehension. There is just too much at stake.
There was once a couple (married) who gave succour to the harried,
To the hounded, to the downcast who would stumble to their gate.
They were battling artists, mostly, and their forms were pale and ghostly,
And the welcome they received would make their loneliness abate.
John Garibaldi Roberts gave sweet comfort to these hobbits,
To these other worldly creatures who would come from time to time,
And his wife was specially caring (though the guests were oft quite wearing),
And her humble ministrations wrought an atmosphere sublime.
There were tram-cars old and rotted through their paddocks quaintly dotted,
For John Garibaldi Roberts had a tram-related job.
To a self-destructive menace by the name of CJ Dennis
They showed an ancient tram-car into which they bade him lob.
He made it very cosy, and his life grew much more rosy.
It was in its four walls camping that he penned his famous ‘Bloke’.
It’s a cause for celebration. It’s a story for the nation
How this modest couple managed his creative fires to stoke.
But it wasn’t just this poet. There were others. You should know it,
Artists like Tom Roberts also came to ‘Sunnyside’;
David Low and Charles Web Gilbert, Robert Kroll and Harold Herbert,
They visited the Roberts’ for a wild and joyous ride.
So, let us not forget it. No indeed, we should gazette it.
That its tale should be forgotten is a prospect all too grim.
Let the name of ‘Sunnyside’ be a constant source of pride.
Let it blaze down through the ages. Let it shine, and never dim!
‘Sunnyside’
© Stephen Whiteside 21.06.10
In the early years of the twentieth century, John Garibaldi Roberts, and his wife, Roberta, ran a colony for artists at their weekend retreat, ‘Sunnyside’, in South Sassafras (now Kallista) in the Dandenong Ranges, 40 km east of Melbourne.
It strikes me rather sadly, and reflects upon us badly,
That we’ve no collective mem’ry of those folks from ‘Sunnyside'.
We should swaddle them with rapture so eternally we capture
All their works and names and faces. They should make us swell with pride.
But we’re shallow and we’re rotten. All their details we’ve forgotten,
And the place itself is nothing but a sign, or some such thing.
Instead of genius espousing we have filled it up with housing.
It is dreary and suburban where our spirits high should sing.
But I should do some explaining, for I see I am not gaining
Any sympathy or ardour for the point I wish to make.
I will tell you very slowly why I think this place is holy.
I need clear comprehension. There is just too much at stake.
There was once a couple (married) who gave succour to the harried,
To the hounded, to the downcast who would stumble to their gate.
They were battling artists, mostly, and their forms were pale and ghostly,
And the welcome they received would make their loneliness abate.
John Garibaldi Roberts gave sweet comfort to these hobbits,
To these other worldly creatures who would come from time to time,
And his wife was specially caring (though the guests were oft quite wearing),
And her humble ministrations wrought an atmosphere sublime.
There were tram-cars old and rotted through their paddocks quaintly dotted,
For John Garibaldi Roberts had a tram-related job.
To a self-destructive menace by the name of CJ Dennis
They showed an ancient tram-car into which they bade him lob.
He made it very cosy, and his life grew much more rosy.
It was in its four walls camping that he penned his famous ‘Bloke’.
It’s a cause for celebration. It’s a story for the nation
How this modest couple managed his creative fires to stoke.
But it wasn’t just this poet. There were others. You should know it,
Artists like Tom Roberts also came to ‘Sunnyside’;
David Low and Charles Web Gilbert, Robert Kroll and Harold Herbert,
They visited the Roberts’ for a wild and joyous ride.
So, let us not forget it. No indeed, we should gazette it.
That its tale should be forgotten is a prospect all too grim.
Let the name of ‘Sunnyside’ be a constant source of pride.
Let it blaze down through the ages. Let it shine, and never dim!
