A week in Yackandandah



Yackandandah – a quiet town
nestled along the river side.
Of mountain ranges running down
from high snow on the great divide.

A town created by miners of gold
digging in fierce heat and chilling cold.
Established permanence a solid frontage
local red brick and chamfered plumage.

A community of hope and longing
holding close a secret yearning –
for a horse and trap to take to town
and a main street to wander down.

Mining stops, children die, dreams stray
Early settlers beaten – drift away.


Yackandandah – a heritage town.
of buildings left by merchants of gold.
Yuppies and hippies jostle like clowns
in empty stores full of new and old

Now gathering dust with faded finery
old Ironmongery and weathered machinery –
rusted with icons and scented baubles
the town waits, welcomes outsiders.

Classified – Stamped into permanence
A time capsule exposing its brilliance
to tourists from large cities in transit
Touching base with quaint stores historic.

A new age of trade carved and waving –
architectural streetscape now adorning.