Old Halls Creek

The red dust road that leads from town
and back into the range
was traveled once by hardy souls
to whom this land was strange

They came to Old Halls Creek to dig
to pan the streams for gold
they came with dreams of striking rich
of wealth as yet untold

All they owned they carried in
from ports along the coast
Picks and spades and billy tins
and flour from trading posts

By foot, by mule, by cart and horse
they flooded into town
but many fell along the way
to crocs, to thirst or sometimes drowned

Some struck it rich, some just survived
some left and some returned
In all who crossed the barren hills
a lust for gold ore burned

And all at once the gold ran out
the town began to die
The diggings all stood silent
beneath a cloudless sky

Years came and went but little changed
beneath the burning sun
until at last the road was sealed
and change began to come

But even now the old dirt road
will lead you back in time
to ruins down beside a creek
where miners lived and died

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Comments

  • HHS  On May 6, 2016 at 3:14 am

    Hello Marc,

    I would be interested in publishing this poem in a short book about Old Town that I hope to sell from the Halls Creek Tourism Centre. Full credit and reference back to your blog.

    Please contact me.
    Regards

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