Garden Island

I hear him caw the dark glossy pale eyed crow
In sea inlet park where the mangroves trees grow
And willy wagtail chasing insect prey
From early dawn till twilight of the day.

Off of the long jetty often lit by sunshine
The fisher people fish with rod and line
Near Garden Island I could live and stay
Perhaps I will return to there one day.

For shrimps and minnows the hunting terns dive
They have their inborn instincts to survive
As every creature living wild and free
Inland or on the coast or out at sea.

The silver gulls in small flocks congregate
Where picnic tables are they always wait
They keep on crying and squabbling as they are fed
Scraps of leftovers fish and chips and meat and bread.

The cormorants after fishing hang their wet wings out to dry
And above the park the spur winged plovers fly
And call aloud proclaiming their territory
In Garden Island by the southern sea.

I visualize and the memories come once more
Of where the waves lap on the inlet shore
And I'll return in not too distant day
To Garden Island many miles away.