Creator / imaginer: Dabbler in art, literature and sound.
I’m thankful for the springtime
And how it brings our garden to life.
For the morning scent of eucalyptus,
The dew upon the grass,
And the warmth of country nights.
For afternoon sun showers
Drifting across freshly cut lawns,
And for the vibrant colours of flowers
That make me cherish the season more.
The songs of busy insects
And brightly coloured birds
Fill the air with gentle music.
And the sounds of springtime in the country
Are the finest I have ever heard.
There is a place where tall trees whisper,
Their voices dancing on the wind as they sing,
With rustling leaves and creaking branches
That stretch beneath the midday sun of spring.
Green farmlands lie sweetly fragranced,
Creating soft beds for small white sheep,
While warm sunlight drifts lazily
Across rich pasture and forest deep.
The scent of eucalyptus rides the breeze,
Seeping into my lungs like healing air,
And hungry bees seek sweet nectar
Among the wildflowers growing there.
A mountain rises from this place,
Its fern-tree canopy glowing green,
Where sunlight kisses frond and leaf
Beside a crystal mountain stream.
High upon the peak,
Great trunks reach upward,
Seeking the sun they know,
Their branches filled with sleeping life,
Rocked by forest lullabies below.
The mighty ironbarks greet the stars each night
And farewell the moon each dawn.
This is where my heart feels full,
My thoughts are free,
And a smile upon my face is worn.
