The White Waves At Port Fairy
The white waves at Port Fairy they make a loud din
As on to the long beach the tide does roll in
And the dainty looking silver gulls mew as they fly
As the sun disappears in the gray evening sky
Thousands of centuries before the first Humans came to this great Land
The tide at Port Fairy rolled up the gray sand
Long before the first dinosaurs from their eggs pecked their way free
The huge white waves rolled in the Southern Sea
Though to the Port Fairy locals mine is a strange face
I do feel at home in this beautiful place
The artists have sketched it, the writers of it write
Their stories and poems for to read and recite
A special place to many and a special place to me
Port Fairy where the land does meet with the sea.
The White Winged Chough
At first I thought this has to be a crow
But as she flew white on her wings did show
Upwards to cup shaped mud nest wedged in bough
And then I knew she is the white winged chough.
So many people seem to get it wrong
And mistake chough for the pied currawong
But currawongs eyes are yellow choughs are red
By similarities we tend to be misled.
And others who of bird life little know
Say white winged chough is thin billed breed of crow
But crow don't build mud nest on fork of tree
And chough belong to different family.
The white winged choughs search for food on the ground
In place where there are many trees around
And they live in family groups of five to ten
And they seldom venture near the homes of men.
In Spring they build mud nest and the female lay
Five to eight spotted eggs of white to gray
And all the family help to raise the young
And when danger is near they all give tongue.
There is a bird known as the white winged chough
And she builds her cup shaped mud nest wedged in bough
And sometimes people tend to get it wrong
And mistake her for crow or currawong.
The Widow In The House Across The Street
She has about her such a happy way
I hear her hearty laughter every day
And with a cheery hello me she greet
The woman in the house across the street.
A widow in her early fifties she lives on her own
And around the neighbourhood she is well known
There is a cheery warmth in her hello
One well might say that she has the inner glow.
She has not seen her only child for many a day
He lives in London half a World away
With his English wife their little girl is three
The grand daughter that she has yet to see.
Her late husband a contract roof tiler by trade
He was paid by the amount of tiles he laid
Two years ago from a roof he took a fatal fall
One memory that she doesn't wish to recall.
In a tragic way for anyone's life to end
She had lost her soul mate and her dearest friend
And though she grieved and great sadness she knew
Her love of life in trying times see her through.
But nothing lasts forever as they say
And her gift of happiness is back with her to stay
Across the street I hear her laughter ring
And the sound of it is such a joyful thing.
She has about her such a cheerful way
And I hear her hearty laughter every day
The widow in the house across the street
The nicest person one could wish to meet.
The Wild Feathered Minstrels Of Nature
They call chirp and sing in parks and woods and gardens at twilight and before sunrise
And even by the sound of their voices most species one can recognize
The wild feathered minstrels of Nature one hears and sees them every day
Every species of bird serves it's purpose in serving Nature in some way
I love birds as do many others for to exist they don't depend on human kind
They can get on nicely without us their own food in Nature they do find
Some species of birds are migratory they travel long distances every year
The most amazing stories of their journeys we are privileged to read of and hear
Each year many species of water and shore birds fly from and back from the north to the southern shore
A round trip of twenty thousand kilometres and having said that maybe more
Whilst many species are sedentary they live their lives in the one place
Yet for all species of birds as well as animals the challenge of survival they face
Due to pollution, climate change and habitat destruction many species of birds are now rare
Without birds we would be the worse off their music with us they do share.