In Baxters Land In March

In the undergrowth the scrubwren chirp amongst the scrub and bushes
And on the melaleuca trees the restless grey shrike thrushes
Are whistling in the sunshine they sing and chirp together
And brown butterflies flit around the shrubs in the breezy Autumn weather.

On the sun dried pathways of Baxters land the ants in their thousands crawling
And on the lake the wild duck quack and coot and moorhen calling
And March she dons her Autumn brown always her favoured colour
And sunshine in the afternoon though the morning was gray and duller.

Amongst the knee high bracken the grey Roos watch they seem alert and wary
All human beings they have learned to mistrust to them we do look scary
One big Roo turns and bounds away and the others quickly follow
Him up the hill and they disappear from view into the distant hollow.

The noisy miners calling on the trees of their territory possessive
They chase all other birds away perhaps the most aggressive
Birds who reside in Baxters land and all to them a stranger
And they even mob the bigger birds of prey and they never flee from danger.

In Baxters land near Wonthaggi March sunny warm and breezy
And grey Roos watching from the scrub at the sight of me uneasy
A day of warmth and beauty for to cherish and remember
And grass that is brown in the Fall will be green by September.