A Cool Morning In December Poem by Francis Duggan

A cool morning in December it has rained overnight
And the low gray clouds o'er the forest block out any sunlight
Of brightening up old Belgrave and beautyfying the trees
A weather forecast for the day of a high of twenty two degrees.

The juveniles of Summer and the babes of early Spring
Young kookaburras on a high branch are learning how to sing
Their parents are their teachers their cackles loud and clear
As they warn other kookaburras that their border it is here.

The currawongs are piping known as the birds of rain
Long after you have heard them their song with you remain
And crimson rosellas chirping as from tree to tree they fly
A thing of natural beauty is always a thing of joy.

The unmistakeable song of the mynas their ancestors introduced from far away
From the big Cities of India such as Delhi and Bombay
As well as the Eurasian blackbirds black feathers and orange colored bill
They raise their broods and pipe their songs in the wood on Terry's Hill.

A cool morning in December with just the slightest breeze
But a forecast high for tomorrow of thirty four degrees
And more warm weather forecast as Christmas Day draws near
And every cool day welcome at this time of the year.