Back In Semaphore

I've not been in this Town for a year or maybe more
But some familiar faces here that I 've seen before
And people walk their dogs in park by the sea shore,
It is good to be back in Semaphore.

Off of the jetty in the bright sunshine
The old fishing fellow casts his fishing line
He hopes to catch a few good sized fish for tea
Though of such there is not a guarantee.

Some Australian Aboriginals still live here
In the shade of norfolk pine they sit and drink their beer
They socialize as one big happy family
In Semaphore the old Town by the sea.

The silver gulls in large flocks congregate
By picnic tables in the sun they wait
Like hungry beggars crying to be fed
On scraps of uneaten fish and meat and bread.

On canvas an artist might capture the scene
Of sunlit park of shades of brown and green
Where the recreational cricket players cricket play
And enjoy themselves on their weekend holiday.

In the late afternoon a freshening sea breeze
And miners chirping on the sunlit trees
And saltwater waves lap on the sandy shore,
It feels good to be back in Semaphore.