The Hawskebury
By Song N
Taking off to the clouds, way up high the pelican flies
Staring down, the water flows and the black swans paddle
At the water bank the mud arises as debris is woken from its calm slumber
The lands of growth
Plains of colours, all sorts stretched across the lowlands
The paddocks like patterns, of oranges, reds, cream, yellows,
And the brightest green
Shimmering blue hints of grey and the underlying browns
The colours mixing, changing, and folding over each other
The lands of the living
Over the bridge on the other side the farmers grow,
Turf farms further than the eye could see
In the end it is our land to care