The river grows wider and deeper as near to the ocean it flow
It crawls onwards quietly at a snail's pace and a snail's pace it is very slow
One can hear the surf waves in the distance as they crash against the cliff on the shore
A sound that is as old as forever and that will be heard forever more
The coots and the grebes and the musk ducks in the still waters diving for food
'Tis nearing Spring for them nesting Season when they will pair for to raise a brood
They spend most of their lives on the river on water their chicks into adults do grow
The more that we learn about birds the less about them we know we do know
Late Winter by the southern ocean a month from the southern Spring
All through the night now on the tall trees the silvery billed magpies do sing
The day it is dull but not windy by the river a mile from the sea
With Nature in her late Winter greenery a sight that is lovely to see
The wattlebirds and honeyeaters chirp and call on the blossoming tree
And I feel close to an Earthly Utopia where beauty is all around me.