ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

11 - The Golden Years

Bumped in to a young bloke,
just the other day,
offered him my hand shake,
the good old fashioned way.
To my surprise, he had a grip,
our eyes locked wanting more,
an instant conversation sprung,
he quickly held the floor.

He spun in to his story,
a Millennial look at life,
the ups and downs, good and bad,
with two kids and a wife.
So much inspiration,
a lot that couldn’t wait,
my age was asked, I told him,
three score years’n eight.

The golden years, was his reply,
went on and gave his reasons,
life was lived with what we had,
and worked around the seasons.
Out of bed each morning,
worked hard every day,
thought it through, got it done,
at times the other way.

I joined the conversation,
started slow, but sure,
explaining how I missed the cut,
and never went to war.
I told him of the early days,
dunlite, battery power,
wages paid once a month,
not paid by the hour.

Life was very simple,
watched and taught the skills,
everyone did every thing,
and lived, without the frills,
No TV or laptops,
or mobile phones for talking,
transportation was by horse,
legs were meant for walking.

You say we had the golden years,
well let me set you straight,
life was rough, we did it tough,
you never left your mate.
You stuck it out, you gave your all,
followed your adoption,
junction met, left or right,
failure not an option.

We had to tackle life head on,
we either swum or drowned,
most things either won or lost,
never lost and found.
So let’s agree to disagree,
I’ll give it to you straight,
our years you say we’re golden,
well that’s up for debate.

Glen Hughes ©
14/3/22

There's a proverb that says "Don't long for the good old days - they may have been no better than these". Well illustrated in your poem, Glen.