Those Old Hills Of Toora Poem by Francis Duggan

On a gray gum by Silcock's road the pale eyed raven crow
Caws as did his ancestors many centuries ago
And those old hills of Toora that overlook their name sake Town
In the warm days of the Summer change from Spring green to brown.

Across those hills of Toora the black hunter did pursue
The indigenous marsupials the wallaby and roo
Centuries before the white race to this Southern Country came
But nothing lasts forever and nothing stays the same.

On those old hills of Toora the voice of the weerloo
The birds that many know as yellow tailed black cockatoo
Echo in the gathering twilight as above the hill they fly
Towards their roosting branches on the tall gums nearby.

Down from the hills of Toora through the countryside below
On it's journey to saltwater the ageless dark creek flow
And long after I'm forgotten it will flow eternally
From the high ground of South Gippsland on it's way down to the sea.

Our span of time a brief span seventy years or so
And to those old hills of Toora the Seasons come and go
And in fifty thousand years from now some passer by will say
The sunlit hills of Toora look beautiful today.