Up the Valley
This poem is in memory of my parents(Ash & Emmy) who
lived their final days in this quiet valley, and with them
died the remnant authentic pick and shovel methods of the
Gold Rush days. They were the last old identities left in the valley.
Later large machinery reworked parts of the valley for the
remaining gold, and forever killing the Romance/Nostalgis/Atmosphere
that surrounded this historic area
and post notes and photos about your poem.
Up the Valley
UP THE VALLEY
The road up the valley that time forgot.
In fifty years it changeth not.
Blackwater rests around the bend.
Like other Gold towns has seen the end
of Hotel, Post Office and the dredge.
A sleepy valley that’s now a hedge;
against this world that goes too fast.
Forever may these havens last.
At least in memory.
Nellie, Ma Ward, Ash and Emmy
To mention just a few of many,
that lived in this valley, where gold
had been the dream of old.
Some stayed, but always found.
Not enough gold and too much ground.
Dick and Aussie from up the hill.
Their huts are now forever still
No smoke winds up to paint the sky,
stirring whimsical dreams of days gone by.
The schoolhouse stands to mark the time.
Where the morning bell was heard to chime.
And children laughed, and children played.
But that was then, and none have stayed.
The river that flows forever on.
A trickle today, could rampage upon,
this valley so serene.
Lest you forget it’s sleeping might.
In flood it is an awesome sight.
But the river flows on when others have gone
Not caring not sharing our woes.
Saying this life's not endless; but must travel on
For what life brings who knows
( This poem was written in memory of my parents. Read About this poem)