Burt Street – by Vic Dale

Burt Street Boulder

Burt St Boulder 1900

Burt St Boulder 1900

Oh the years have long strayed, where my younger days played
The dust on a long summer breeze
Our old house where we stayed, mother cried when she prayed
The dust storms that came as they pleased

The Old Trams of Burt Street, in an old world compete
With steam on the Golden Gate line
Dry, red dust at my feet, and padded up seat
The Malvern Star bike that was mine

The headframes of our past, stood each one to the last
Have gone where the tourist descend
For their history’s been cast, open pits and big blasts
And canyons are hard to defend

Now I search for the names, of lost children and games
The days we remember and yearn
My first love there remains, bound in passion and flames
The age where the innocent learn

But time comes on the beat, with our future to meet
And tomorrow hasn’t yet been
So I’ll rest in the street, with good coffee and eat
And pause with the years in-between

For old Boulder has charm, and has lived with her harm
So mingles the old with the new
And I’ll twist not your arm, when I rest in her palm
Old Boulder, fair dinkum and true.

written by Vic Churchill Dale

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My name is Moya Sharp, I live in Kalgoorlie Western Australia and have worked most of my adult life in the history/museum industry. I have been passionate about history for as long as I can remember and in particular the history of my adopted home the Eastern Goldfields of Western Australia. Through my website I am committed to providing as many records and photographs free to any one who is interested in the family and local history of the region.

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