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Old Government House



A woman sits alone

A woman sits alone

Alone on a bench

A bench in an empty field

Which only has one tree.

A tree stands alone,

In a field, a large field

In front of a house, an old house

The oldest house, the Old Government House.

She is waiting

She is waiting for whom?

She doesn’t know

The three don’t know.

 By Ceethu, 14 years old


From The Day We Met

From the day we left,

I could still remember

The beauty of the city

Slowly changing as we aged

But still retaining the history

Where he and I

Fell in love, and where it all started

We sat together, on a bench,

In front of Old Government House.

 By Lina, 14 years old


Old Government House


Shoulders built

on sandstone grudges

I am humble shadows

Bristling lawn secrets

Indian myna scuffles

cockatoo wreckage

falling of bark shards

to fake flat earth

Hiding between pages

And timetable apps

Dwelling populus shot

Bent palm tree burns robotic

Dusty fear coffins

Sleek shunting

Rock rap skin

Classical chagrin

It’s just a building.

Go inside, unlock

Rusty colourful tongues

Brush off grins, congress


I wanted to announce I have shut the gate

but my hands are still plastered sucking up

against the rough terrain of autumn sandstone

and my spine is up against it too. Shoulder blades though

are massaged from car-key encounters

looming grey buildings centring a wallflower

park, stand centre stage, no scaffold or shackle for lighting or leaf


what records do you keep close

sunlit daze, masking shadows?

Is it surface or sediment

Can we ply it as one sea stone?


look I can tell you’re bored

bleak happiness unbounded

glorified passive rock cottage

just tell me what you want

listen tucked into windows

wrought sunken iron

deserted meadowless grass

I would be a statue too, if you asked

see I would bound the staircase

grand old Parra shack

put up, shut up I am boring

sleek blandness, unlit

but if I’d spark or dynamite

I would house nobody


I am ruled unreal time

husk of echo dust

mineral collision

staring at smooth wooden floor

afraid of noise

clutching necklace quartz

planning for unlikely fires

By Jason Gray


Boer War Memorial, 1904: To continue to the next historic location on the Parracons Poetry Path, follow the pathway left and to the west of Government House, following the signs to the Boer War Memorial.