Shadows of yesterday

30 Jan 2018

Noel B Charles, a member of Yamba Probus Club, reflects on his childhood home and memories from his youth.

I’m looking down on the town, where once again I see

The memories of my youth coming flooding back to me.

The creek that snaked around, the old shacks upon its shore, A couple of boats neglected, not to be used there anymore.

As if the ghosts remain there, then to slowly fade away,

Until another tide claims more from them each day.

There still is the little church, where the local choir sang

And people kneeling there, when the bells of calling rang.

Down the street a little further, stands the old wooden hall Where first I danced with my Colleen, at the charities ball,

In the golden days of our youth, adventure was at its best

And the challenges that faced us were then put to the test.

I see the old stables, hear the horses whinny in my brain,

But the holes in the rotting roof will not hold out the rain.

The goal posts at the oval, the Cenotaph with its golden names The memorial gates are open, for the beginning of the games.

I hear the whistle, as the ball flies through the air,

And the crowds are swirling around our local fair.

I’ll soon go down the cutting, to where the cemetery lies

As I read again the words, to bring the tears to my eyes.

“You see I have returned mum, to my hometown of yesterday, And here in the lonely place, you’ll hear the words I say.

I have survived these last years, by living in my mind,

Of all the things I have lost, by leaving them behind. 

If only to tell you how, the young days went so fast

And being here today, seems to make them last.

I know that these spoken thoughts will not go away

And I know you will be listening, to the things I say.

For down this path I must go, a journey I must find,

The wonderful places of my youth, that I had left behind. Here in this place I feel at last, that I came home to see The love and the memories that were waiting here for me.