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Old

The Song Of The Dipper

Posted Wednesday 18th November 2009 at 22:09 by Francis Duggan
In Northern streams and rivers in the Spring of the year
The song of the dipper rural people hear
Above the sound of the rapid waters babbling along
One cannot mistake his unmistakeable song.

The dark brown northern dipper with breast as white as snow
On a rock in the river around where waters flow
He sings and as he sings he bobs up and down
In his watery home by the old rural town.

A bird of the waterways rural people know...
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Old

The Beauty Around Me

Posted Wednesday 18th November 2009 at 22:05 by Francis Duggan
The black and white mudlarks are calling pee wee
And the wattlebird on the callistemon tree
Into the red flowers sticks his slender bill
For to extract nectar from them in the park by the hill
In poems and in stories by writers often told
The beauty around me today I behold
A beauty in memory that lives on in time
That surely will outlive my old fashioned rhyme
On the sunlit trees the birds whistle and sing
To be out amongst Nature...
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Old

On hearing A fox

Posted Wednesday 18th November 2009 at 22:01 by Francis Duggan
Out there on the dark hillside the hunting fox does cry
Perhaps he's out seeking a mate under the starlit sky
Or perhaps he calls to his own kind to proclaim his territory
So much to learn of Nature that's how it seems to me
Of the cunning of his elusive kind stories and poems abound
Their type not often seen by day at dawn they go to ground
Of those who have good to say of them not many you will find
And the greatest enemy they have has to be human...
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Old

The Great Merri River

Posted Tuesday 17th November 2009 at 23:41 by Francis Duggan
Through the old brown paddocks it flows night and day
The great Merri river from here far away
Through the coastal lands of Warrnambool on it's way to the sea
Older than the age of the Dinosaurs it pre-dates history.

It has flowed for millions of centuries of time
The river that has inspired story and rhyme
In Nature's four Seasons Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
Through old coastal lands where the brown bushlark sing.

The great...
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Old

Welcome Swallows

Posted Tuesday 17th November 2009 at 23:37 by Francis Duggan
Unrestricted by borders all day long they fly
Above the brown paddocks these dark birds of the sky
Known as welcome swallows they seldom do rest
Except to roost or bring food to their young in nest,
The swallows of Australia have never been rare
Above Towns and rural paddocks they are seen everywhere
For stamina and prolonged speed the true monarchs of flight
Above all sorts of landscapes a familiar sight
They chase insects, flies and bees...
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