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Maldon On A September Night

The high country dark and peaceful under the stars light
And the tiny breeding frogs are singing in Maldon tonight
September in early Spring their main breeding time of year
In ponds and in drains singing at night them one does hear
On a September night in Maldon the boobook owl call
Mopoke mopoke the familiar cries of this mottled brown nocturnal hunter who preys on creatures tiny to small
At night familiar voices of the countryside
By day in small bushy trees out of sight they does hide
With young cubs to feed in their den nearby
In Maldon on a September night the hunting foxes cry

Yet the night is quite calm and the air is so still
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Wednesday, October 24, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: places
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
from 'rhymeon'
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