She Miss Her Old Home By The Woodland Poem by Francis Duggan

She miss the high woods east of Melbourne the home of the mountain ash trees
The clear fluting notes of the shrike thrush that seemed to carry in the breeze
And she miss her former friends and neighbours, no friends like the friends you once knew
And they seem so happy to greet her with a hug they say, good to see you.

She does not live that distant from Sherbrooke perhaps a two hour drive in a car
And she often returns there for a visit the journey to travel not far
But she'd still love to live in Sherbrooke in Belgrave or Selby or Upwey
Doesn't mean that you can't feel nostalgia if from the old home parts you don't live far away.

She had struggled to make mortgage payments and bank interest seemed far too high
And she sold her old home by the woodland where mountain ash reach towards the sky
And in a small town in the country without giving it too much thought
A smaller and a cheaper dwelling with a much smaller mortgage she bought.

When she sold her old home by the woodland where she had raised her family
She knew that life would not be easy but she also knew the reality
Of having the banks sell it for her a mistake for her that would be
For houses seem greatly devalued when they are sold by the mortgagee.

She miss her old home by the woodland where currawong sing all the day
And she still feel nostalgia for Sherbrooke though from there she doesn't live far away
And she miss her former friends and neighbours no friends like the friends you once knew
And whenever she meet them they greet her with a hug and say 'how do you do'.