William Ricketts Poem by Francis Duggan

William Ricketts was a very special man
And in his soul the light of goodness shone
His carvings of Aboriginals his greatness testify
And his memory at Olinda will live on.

In Olinda at the Ricketts Sanctuary
Along by the gravel paths on either side
On trees and stones carvings of the Dreamtime
The great man on his great work took great pride.

'Twould seem his ghost still lives around this place
A monument to his enduring fame
Though he never fathered children that seems sad
And none to carry on the Ricketts name.

In his Sanctuary he lives for evermore
Under simple inscribed slab off of one pathway
In plainly written words for all to see
The ashes of the famous sculptor lay.

He was born a white man with a black man's soul
And his bond to Aboriginal culture strong
In his World no place for colonial man
And to the Dreamtime his carvings belong.

In William Ricketts Sanctuary rosellas sing
And it is chilly even for July
And where the giant mountain ash stand tall
The sculptor's memory will never die.