Thursday, April 19, 2012

Bass Waters

In the sunshine of mid Winter the cawing of the black pale eyed crow
And magpie sings in a brown paddock on a gum where the Bass waters flow
Slow and deep towards the end of it's journey just a mile or less from the sea
Through a Land that was old in the Dreamtime the river flows eternally,
Such scenes that have been sketched by the artists and inspired the bards for to rhyme
The Bass it is an ancient river perhaps as old as father time
Named after a recent explorer George Bass who lived just two centuries ago
Us white people are new to this Country and little of her ways we know,
We know little of Mother Nature the one who doesn't have a time span
She has been around for billions of Seasons before the birth of the first man
We too are part of Nature's family and to her we'll return one day
The rulers the wealthy and famous and paupers in Mother Earth's bosom all lay
But the ancient Waterway known as Bass will always flow to the sea shore
Across those old flat and brown paddocks it will wind it's way forever more.

No comments:

Post a Comment