An August Night In Sherbrooke

In the moonlit park the spur winged plover trilling
As above his breeding territory he fly
And territorial brush tail possums hiss and bicker
And boobook owl calls on the gums nearby.

Not far distant the ruddy fox is barking
And countless stars are flickering in the sky
And the night air cool but I have known nights to be colder
And the weather for the time of year quite dry.

A poet amongst these splendid scenes of beauty
Might find the inspiration for a song
And sing about the night and it's wild creatures
And the creek through undergrowth rippling along.

It's moments such as these that live on with us
The sound of Nature is a soothing sound
And I almost feel I can touch the calm beauty
That is so near and everywhere around.

The sound of Nature is a thing of beauty
It is a thing that is as old as time
It has inspired the great music composers
And it has inspired the song makers to rhyme.

When darkness falls the shy nocturnal creatures
From their day hiding places venture out
They leave their trees and cavities and burrows
To roam the woods and countryside about.

An august night in the old Shire of Sherbrooke
In weather calm and scarce a puff of breeze
The stringybarks and gray gums and acacias
In the moonlight stand like giant silver trees.

Not far distant a hunting fox is barking
And boobook owl utters his mopoke cry
And frogmouth on a low branch softly calling
And countless stars are flickering in the sky.