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Tower Hill In Late May

The harsh calls of the black duck the soft quacks of the drake
And the black swans are bugling on the waterlogged wetlands by the lake
And the cries of the lapwing carrying in the breeze
On a cool though dry evening in late May of around sixteen degrees

With the calendar Winter with each passing day near
The weather quite seasonal for the time of year
The cooler and wetter months of Winter ahead
That every dry day at this time of year is welcome in truth can be said

In Tower Hill a historic valley with high cliffs all around
Emus, koalas, wallabies, echidna and roo in numbers abound
A sacred place to the descendants of the people of the Dreamtime
It has been the inspiration of story and rhyme

Large flocks of waterbirds are on the wetlands in May
And for the time of year it is quite a nice day
Where the ghosts of the Dreamtime people do reside
In a sacred and historical place that is known far and wide.
Francis Duggan
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: places
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
from 'rhymeonly'
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