Over another Hump

Sunday, November 06, 2005

The Convict Bridge

This bridge has always been important to our family. It was built just below our paternal grandparents home and we played around its arches, threw stones from its walls and generally claimed it as our special place. In the days when children had more freedom than they have now, my siblings, cousins, friends and I explored the creek and often had a picnic under its shade. I pity those children who never had this freedom, a childhood without water to play in seems sterile to me.
The Convict Bridge.
It has spanned this sandy creek
since colonial days.
We learned to swim beneath its arches,
in summer, sheltered in the shade.
Built from local stone,
welded with groans, blood
and curses of convicts
transported for displeasing the king,
or stealing a loaf of bread.
Each rock remembers those cries,
the chain clinks,
crack from whip - or worse,
and the tyranny which built
this monument to misery. Frances Mackay 2005


  • How wonderful. Your so good with the way you word things.


    By Blogger Rhiannon, at 9:57 PM  

  • Wonderful words to describe a treasured memory. Sadly, the expanses of clean,white sands and clean, clear water are no more.

    By Anonymous Sister, at 1:58 PM  

  • Thanks for dropping by my blog Frances and what you said.

    I just posted some of my own drawings on my blog today. Check them out if you would like.


    By Blogger Rhiannon, at 3:43 PM  

  • hi
    thanks for dropping by my food blog..
    you too..you have a nice one here..

    By Blogger ces, at 7:53 AM  

  • Hi Frances,

    Just dropping by my friends blogs to wish everyone to "Have a Happy Thanksgiving this week, with Love, Light and Peace for this World"..:o)

    With Angel Blessings,


    By Blogger Rhiannon, at 6:37 PM  

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