ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Just to show you I haven't gone completely bonkers - here's something a bit more like my usual efforts


THE OPAL GOUGERS

The flicker of our carbide light has shadows dancing left and right,
reflecting off the sandstone walls down eighty feet along the drive.
We’ve found some trace so hopes are high; we pray at last success is nigh,
for optimism is the thing that keeps a gouger’s dreams alive.

A hint of fumes still drift below from shots fired here an hour ago,
a quick check up and then to bed to ready for another day.
A glance though shows the trace is good, suggesting there is likelihood
that opals near, so cautiously we start to chip the face away.

As carefully I swing my pick there comes that dreamt of glassy click,
my heart is beating faster now; excitement grows at what I see.
A blaze of red and golden hues then brilliant flashes greens and blues;
breathtaking is the sight that greets - I wonder can this really be.

All time stands still a moment now, or so it seems to us somehow,
my mate is crouched there frozen too, eyes fixed upon the opal seam.
We’re mesmerized by beauty rare - a moment for two mates to share;
to find a pocket of such gems - an answer to a battlers dream.

My mind drifts back to months of hope and climbing down deep mines by rope,
to noodle rubble underground to search for opal missed before.
We’d seek to find in each old drive enough to help us to survive,
with our finances stretched so thin starvations knocking at our door.

So as I look in disbelief; there comes a feeling of relief
for lady luck has smiled at last with sparkling colours there on show.
For what had once been only trace is now bright seams across the face
and opal looks so beautiful when viewed by light deep down below.

Exciting hours now lay ahead; there’ll be no time for sleep or bed,
the first few stones have been gouged out and many more glow in the light.
We study every piece in awe and swear there’s not a single flaw,
aware that few will have the joy, of seeing such a wondrous sight.

My mind is soon back on the job, for now it’s time to earn a bob,
forget the past and concentrate - a careless blow could cost us heaps.
So patiently we set about the thrill of digging opal out,
and we won’t leave a single chip for any ratting, thieving creeps.

The next few hours soon fly on past until the pockets dug at last,
then wearily we climb on out just as the sun begins to rise.
We look around and sense again the magic of the Gibber Plain.
for deep below this sun baked soil there’s beauty waiting to surprise.

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© T.E. Piggott

I can only imagine the excitement you feel when you see that colour - I get the feeling reading your poetry Terry. Lovely work -these lines say it all

We’re mesmerized by beauty rare - a moment for two mates to share;
to find a pocket of such gems - an answer to a battlers dream.

I was mesmerized too Terry. Opal is my birthstone (October) and is a favourite stone, and as you know I have a very special opal ring. I was holding my breath the whole time in anticipation. I really enjoyed this poem. You write a lot about gold prospecting. Maybe you can find some more inspiration in your old opal mining days.

Heather

Do not often read a lot of poems right through Terry but yes it tells the story well.



Bob

Thanks Maureen and Heather

Heather there are a couple of reasons why I mostly write about Gold prospecting,
My opal days ended about 48 years ago when I left to get married.
As much as I still treasure those days, the remoteness and the solitude to be found in much of the WA Goldfields really captured me (if I was a poet I’d say my heart) and I have never lost the love for that country.
Opal mining was at times very exciting, but there were always people around, whereas out gold prospecting it was mostly with just a mate. (for 10 years my wife – the best mate of them all) Or often even by myself far from any towns, and you could go for weeks without seeing a single person – particularly in the early days.
I guess you need to experience it to see if it has the same effect on you – many can’t stand the remoteness.
If you look back to page 5 in the photo’s you’ll see me as a young bloke, but that was a long time ago, in about 1966- or 7. So if you do your math’s you will see I’m getting a bit long in the tooth. I think I’ve mentioned before that my old opal mining mate is still in Coober Pedy and we’re still mates.

In case anyone hasn’t seen the photo’s, they’re under Coober Pedy and were posted By Bill Williams with the help of Bob because I didn’t have a clue about how to do it.

Cheers Terry

Thanks Bob

I'm much the same mate,
I usually dash in and have a quick look then come back later for a decent read if time allows.

Cheers Terry

You sent that photo to me a long time ago Terry, I remember it. I don't think I was born then! I reckon you could write some more - they'd just be different to the gold ones.

Loved the poem Terry. I also loved reading your story -brings us a glimpse of you and life when your not writing.
Thank you for sharing
Cheers
Sue

The flicker of our carbide light has shadows dancing left and right, First line and I know you're going to score a length of the field try. Love your writing Terry.
Wazza

It's a bottler, Terry!!

Cheers
Shelley