Francis Duggan Sky Poems

I heard the black swans in the clear moonlit sky
As above the Town to the lake they did fly
To me they do have such a musical song
You hear them once and you never get them wrong.
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In the sunny mostly blue sky just a few clouds of gray
It is such a beautiful January day
Not too warm or too cool of around twenty degrees
And the balmy air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
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A sky full of stars such a beautiful sight
The magpies are singing in Maldon tonight
In the still air the flute like warbling so pleasant to hear
Of the birds who does sing every day of the year
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In the sunny blue sky just a few patches of gray
For late August in late Winter it is such a beautiful day
The coastal countryside looking so green after the recent rain
With such splendid weather it is so hard to complain
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When the sky of night wears it's starry gown
Above the dark fields of the old country town
The chirping of the migrating redwings one does hear
In November in the late Fall of the year
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The sun out and shining though the sky of gray rain clouds not clear
And in the still morning air the bleating of sheep i hear
On the Warrnambool Penshurst road near old Koroit Town
Cars and trucks on the roadway buzzing up and down
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In the blue and clear sky just a few clouds of gray
On what is a pleasant and warm Summer's day
And Nature's sweet aroma of freshly mowed hay
Wafts to me from sunlit meadows far away
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Sunshine in the blue sky of clouds woolly gray
On a pleasant and breezy early January day
The flute of the magpie in the park by the bay
Earthly Utopia from this place cannot be far away
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With eyes to the scrub for small creature to kill
A monarch of the sky soaring above Tower Hill
Australia's largest avian predator of feathers dark brown
One who likes to live far from the noisy big town
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As the sky starts to brighten just before daybreak
The whistling of the gray shrike thrush one ought not to mistake
So flute like and familiar and melodious and clear
A beautiful voice in the Spring of the year
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Perhaps i will never see Clara again
Or hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
Or see the old fields in their wildflowers of May
Far north of this Country in sky miles far away
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The thunder cracks in the gray sky and the rain it is bucketing down
Above the high and dry and bare paddocks by the river that flows by the town
On those paddocks that need heaps of rain it has been awhile since they were green
This countryside is looking dry 'tis as dry as it ever has been
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