Back In Birdsland Poem by Francis Duggan

The currawongs calling the dark birds of rain
I fancy I'm back in old Birdsland again
The white cockies squawk on the pale barked gum trees
On a cool Spring morning of around eighteen degrees
The flute of the magpie melodious and clear
And the tiny bell like notes of the bellbirds I hear
The black duck and wood duck with their young on the lake
The harsh cry of the moorhen one cannot mistake,
The harsh calls of the kookaburras on the blackwood trees
That seems to carry in the freshening breeze
Where multicoloured crimson and eastern rosellas reside
In a heavenly place where peace and beauty abide
As a safe haven for wildlife it's great claim to fame
Birdsland is a place that lives up to it's name.