There is a small lake in Kallista forest
And all of those who know it call it Billabong
Surrounded by tree ferns, gums and wattles
A natural thing and to nature it belong.
The pathway that lead to it almost hidden
By fallen trees and rough scrub overgrown
As if Nature now want to reclaim her secret
And hide it in the forest as her own.
I last was up there in latter December
On the mid afternoon of Boxing day
The sky was clear, the sun was brightly shining
And shrike thrush piped on branch of mountain gray.
Fred Williams the famous painter from Upwey
found inspiration up Kallista way
And the forest billabong inspired some of his paintings
I'm only quoting what a local say.
I found the billabong down tangled pathway
It's verges here and there lit by sun ray
And all around crimson rosellas belling
And frog was croaking nearby hid away.
There is a small lake in Kallista forest
And the path to it by rough scrub overgrown
As if Nature now want to reclaim her secret
And hide it in the forest as her own.
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