The eastern curlews they pipe as they fly
Above the mudflats in the grey morning sky
And the huge surf waves rumble to the great ocean's roar
As they crash on the white sands of McLoughlins shore.
I'm back there whenever I do visualize
In Gippsland at McLoughlins beach just after sunrise
The pipings of the curlews the windblown sea spray
At the start of what will be a beautiful day.
Thousands of tiny dark crabs on the mudflats are crawling around
At the sound of approaching footsteps they quickly go to ground
Their small holes in the mud in plentiful supply
And they are out searching for food again when danger has passed them by.
The mudflats and the nearby beach are deserted where Nature reign supreme
In an Earthly Utopia or so it does seem
In McLoughlins beach from where I live hundreds of kilometres away
But in my visualization I am there today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem