South of the city feels like home
a land where fewer people roam
away from buildings in the sky
a place where flocks of spoonbills fly
the bell bird’s song sounds all day long
amid the leaves and living throng
you’ll find some time to hear the breeze
spreading gossip through the trees
and when you’re by the inlet blue
the dappled sun shares stories too
tales of the fish below
and knowledge of how oysters grow
this wisdom travels from the deep
to mountains where old memories sleep
between the two lies rolling green
the lushest country ever seen
a countryside robust and true
but delicate as morning dew
the health of which, as all things do,
depends on folks like me and you.
~