Francis Duggan

The Old Country Roads Of The Bushlands - Poem by Francis Duggan

The old country roads of the bushlands where paddocks are wide bare and brown
In a land sparse in trees even gum trees many miles from the nearest big town
The beautiful song of the magpie is carrying in the freshening breeze
On a sunny April morning in mid Fall with a temperature high of twenty degrees
The year's first lambs are with their mothers a sight that is pleasant to see
Out there in the quiet of the bushlands a long way inland from the sea
For the local farmers life must be lonely at least a half an hour journey by car
To the nearest little bush village of a small school a pub and a milk bar
From the quiet country roads of the bushlands the nearest freeway miles away
In a part of the World that's free of pollution where few young people wish for to stay
For work they move to the big cities their future from here is elsewhere
The lust of the wander is in them for life in the big World out there
From the quiet country roads of the bushlands the paddocks looking brown and bare
In a land of many sheep and cattle where houses and people are rare.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 23, 2009

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