Remember Mate

[Terry]

I was having a chin-wag with an old mate recently who was with me at the start of our gold detecting days – exciting times, and what great memories.


REMEMBER MATE

Remember now those days of gold,
the frosty nights, the bitter cold;
a roaring fire to beat the chill;
the old bush camp near Tin Dog hill.
Bright stars that shone in clear night skies;
the chilling howls of wild dog cries
and how we yarned each night till late,
the billy on -- remember mate?

Detecting then was something new
and we were there among the few
who dared to risk near all we had,
ignoring friends who thought us mad.
But luck was soon to play its part
with nuggets found right from the start;
excitedly we’d check each weight
around the fire -- remember mate?

The south east wind blew cold in June
and blew each day till well past noon,
though dreams of wealth out there back then
would warm the hearts of us young men.
We’d follow every ancient track
that wound through hills somewhere outback
and looked for signs to indicate
that gold was near -- remember mate?

Some warmth at last and hearts would sing,
beneath clear skies each goldfields spring;
the country seemed to come alive
and all around once more would thrive.
We’d move our camp from place to place
all through those miles of endless space;
we loved it there, and life was great
long, long ago -- remember mate?

But once the summer had returned
each gram of gold had to be earned,
for with it came the dust and flies
that zeroed in on red rimmed eyes.
Relief was found as heat would soar
with bucket baths at Bluey’s Bore
and with the moon we’d concentrate
on work at night -- remember mate?

With heat haze rising all around
mirages flooded sun baked ground,
where hills seemed islands now set free
to drift upon an inland sea.
Dust devils weaved liked drunken men
at first one-way then back again
and searing heat would not abate,
till late at night -- remember mate?

Though life was hard you’d have to say,
I doubt we’d change a single day,
for once that country casts its spell
it captures hearts as we know well.
And though those days are now long past,
some memories will always last
of days of gold; of luck and fate -
and life out bush -- remember mate?

*****

© T.E. Piggott

[Neville Briggs]

Good on ya Terry. Good to see you posting, you've been a bit quiet.

I find now that the people I can reminisce with are getting fewer and fewer.

You experiences sound too tough for me

[Shelley Hansen]

Dust devils weaved like drunken men

Oh wow, Terry - I just love this simile - and indeed, the atmosphere that the whole poem creates. Beautifully crafted, and the repeated remember mate? at the end of each verse gives it a poignant and wistful quality. Definitely one to read and re-read!

Cheers, Shelley

[Cropduster]

Another great read, Terry.

Days of gold were tough days indeed, yet so beautifully polished in your telling.

[vwalla]

Terry
Thank You.
Obviously spoken in words of been there , done that. You have given the reader the same feeling
Must have been great!
Val W

[Catherine Lee]

Wonderful poem Terry with excellent metre and rhyme. You really take us there, and I love the way you repeat the 'remember Mate?' at the end of each stanza

[r.magnay]

G'day Terry. good to see another one of yours appear, a very good one at that, Loved it....though I never prospected for gold I can relate...

[Terry]

Hi I’m down at Peaceful Bay and the internet signal is weak at the best of times, but we’ll see how we go.

Thanks all

Hi Neville old mates are precious and some are irreplaceable aren’t they.

G/day Shelley
Thanks for the kind comments, I guess we just write them in a way that the mood dictates and hope for the best.

Hi Cropduster
I can’t believe I forgotten your name mate, been away too long, thanks for the comment (Allan think)

Thanks Val – yes spent a fair bit of my life chasing dreams.

Cheers Terry

[Terry]

Thanks Catherine
Hope all’s well with you as it is with us.

G/day Ross
You know what I’m talking about mate, and that’s appreciated.

G/day Matt
Doing it tough down here at Peaceful Bay, King George Whiting and Flounder for tea.

Not that it matters mate, but I wonder if many people realise what it was like to have been there in the early days of prospecting for a living in the seventies when the modern rush took place, and make no mistake it was a new era in gold prospecting. There were a group of us who more or less reopened the goldfields and discovered many new patches. Most of us made a reasonable living out of it, but few made a fortune (in money terms). But for those of us who fell in love with the lifestyle, we wouldn’t change a thing.

Cheers All

Terry

[Heather]

Terry this is a piece of Piggott gold. You certainly take us there and make us want to go there too. I love it.

Heather