The Bush Stone Curlew Poem by Francis Duggan

Weerloo weerloo a bird's voice in the night
Weerloo weerloo again then all is quiet
A bird the bushman hear but seldom see
They call them bush stone curlew or thick knee.

Gray brown in looks and about curlew size
And secretive with big nocturnal eyes
And seldom ever seen in light of day
In heavy scrub they hide themselves away.

They always lay their blotched eggs on the ground
In nest with scrub or rank grass all around
And from land that man for agriculture clear
The bush stone curlew seem to disappear.

Long years back in the days of the pioneer
Their ancestors the birds who instilled fear
Strong armed men to the camp fire huddled near
When strange voice in the darkness they did hear.

Man from them steal their habitat away
And they need protection wild life guardians say
And where once were many now there's only few
And I have only seen them in a zoo.

The bush stone curlew or the bush thick knee
A bird the bushman hear but seldom see
And seldom ever seen in light of day
In heavy scrub they hide themselves away.