Walhalla, is a tiny ghost mining town in Gippsland, Victoria where my father bought a holiday house in the fifties. The accommodation was primitive to say the least and poor mum spent much of her time clearing the blackberries that infested the track up to the house, as well as cutting kindling for the fire and coping with kerosene lamps and an old primus stove. Walhalla was finally connected to the national electricity grid in February 1998. It's current resident population is nine.
Walhalla Revisited
Trekking through childhood memories
of scrabble and lamp-lit dinners,
I find myself revisiting Walhalla -
old gold-mining town.
There, in damp and misty air,
shrill bellbirds ring out loud
and chubby chilblained hands
catch trout in Stringers Creek.
Small feet in gumboots
(choked by thorns and leeches)
creep by luck and match-light
through long abandoned tunnels.
And eager eyes read wide eyed words
of anguish and despair
on tombstones half-buried
by time and blackberry canes.
Today the mines are flooded
with tourists and electric light,
yet that intangible spirit
that lured the pioneers and pickaxes
still haunts Walhalla -
old gold-mining town,
sad ghost-mining town.
An interesting portait you have painted of this ghost town. There are a few old mining towns here in California as well that give me a similar feeling at times. Bodie for one. Which is in the hills between California and Nevada. They've made it into a park now, most of the houses are all the same. Anyway I feel your poem captures a time past brought forward. Well done. A poet friend//RH Peat
I can see how you love this place, much as I also love my hometown, a 13 hours boat ride. Thank you Allie for giving us a glimpse of that town.
This atmospheric, informative and vibrant poem takes the reader on a magnificent poetic journey through the eyes of a child and beyond. Crammed with superlative imagery; I love the 'chubby chilblained hands' and 'tombstones half'buried by time and blackberry canes'. A real privilege to read. :)
lovely poem of Walhalla..it remains me of Willy Willy Wekey who was ghost who do magic things to the kids after 8pm so now he ran away due to lot of people in our city ..lol but we tell the fairly tails to our kids ...this are the good ghost who live in our heart forever....nice poem
Old is gold.........living ghosts like gold but the dead ghosts? Your magical poem forced me to go there but I have a loose-leaf passport and the validity already expired.
Thoroughly enjoyed Walhalla from your childhood eyes Alison, and the scrabble and lamp-lit dinners would be so memorable to a child - the days with no TV when board games were the entertainment. You bring it all to life and much appreciated as I have never been there. Your last stanza such a fitting conclusion with the spirit of the pioneers brought to the fore.
magycal poem - you enlighted the place and time with your perception and warmth
This is about how the simple things in life can give us pleasure. Took me back to holidays with my grandmother, no electric light, or running water and the shit collected once a week. As kids we had fun today I would find the living a little hard. I love the way you protray nostalgia for the olden days!!!
I am so glad to know of this hunted town Allie.Thanks for this lovely work.And glad to know that at least the mines are flooded with tourists and light.Love it.
ghosts or no ghosts it is a magical place with precious memories....
The humble residue of a place named with God-like ambition.
This is a delightful piece reminiscing about the Walhalla of your childhood days...your imagery is very captivating Allie as usual...thanks for this insight into "the old gold-mining town, sad ghost-mining town."
Allie this poem takes me straight to my childhood days when I was a great fan of Enid Blyton( I am even now ) . I would be so fascinated with their adventures trying to explore haunted caves and to think you experienced it all and after all these years poeticized it ...this poem certainly has an old world charm
The picture you paint with your talented pen is so fresh and spontaneous - - a place of enchantment for young adventures and full of "scrabbling" memories to fuel your childhood recall Allie. The place comes alive with it's non-mod-cons - -though a sad thought as the verse states of a "ghost-mining town" now. A peep into life in Walhalla both in it's heyday and after makes a thoroughly enjoyable read.
Interesting recapitulation of past life is enjoyable to read!
And eager eyes read wide eyed words of anguish and despair on tombstones half-buried by time and blackberry canes. //// what a wonderful atmospheric poem to read...
Ghost towns are fascinating.We dont have them as such in the Uk but we do have drowned villages swallowed up by modern reservoirs. Only to be seen after a prolonged dry spell.
Very interesting and expressive