In fancy I walk around the lakes today
Of Birdsland from here many road miles away
The squawking of the white cockatoos high on the gum trees
And the harsh calls of the kookaburras floating in the breeze
The loud quacks of the duck and the softer calls of the drake
And the cormorants fishing in the center of the lake
And the tiny grebe for food diving when person nearby
They swim to deep water of Human kind shy
Where the red crimson rosellas and their juveniles of green
And their cousins the multicolored eastern rosellas in numbers are seen
And in the high wood above Birdsland every day of the year
The pleasant tinkling songs of the bell miners so pleasant to hear
From where I live now it may seem far away
But in fancy I'm back in old Birdsland today.
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