Mary Love captured the essence of Denniston well with her poem:

The Hill

I climbed and climbed and was so high
Up where the sea turns into sky,
Or did the sky turn into sea?
It all looked just the same to me,
Standing up in Denniston
Standing up and looking down.

Way up here upon The Hill
Old miner's spirits linger still
In the ruins of the mine,
Their ghosts still ride the old incline,
Tingling chills run down my spine-
-And up again. The old incline.

A stone wall here, some floor boards there,
Broken glass lies everywhere,
Shattered like so many dreams,
Left behind on jet-black seams,
They pervade the air in misty damp
and haunt the now quiet, reclaimed camp.

Strong seeds they sowed do still remain,
On the Hill to stake their claim,
To beat the odds and live and strive,And keep the memorieas alive
Coal-fire embers burning hot,
Lest their forbears be forgot-

The men, the women, and the mine-
- Denniston, and the old incline.

 

Mary Love
5th February 2000

Picture from private collection J Poels