Strolling by the Thomson river,
I heard a blackbird sing
in the cool of the after-rain...
But I must leave this spring
and climb aboard a jet plane,
nose set for winter's reign,
through swirling leaves of autumn
to see my sprogs again.
Strolling by the Thomson river,
I saw a fairy wren
flipped up tail and beaded eye...
But I must be leaving,
heaved aboard a jet plane,
nose fixed on winter's reign,
zooming above these gum trees,
to see my sprogs again.
Strolling by the Thomson river
I saw an old magpie
as bold a bird as any met
that ever held an eye
So I leant down and whistled
a tune he ought to know...
You'll have to sing it for me,
for I have to go,
hauled aboard a jet plane
nose locked on winter's town.
Now dry your eyes, my sweeting;
let go your frown.
................
That's all from 'A Fiercer Light' ... for now.
