The sun shines brightly on the hills of Emerald
And Emerald as it's name suggests look green
And were I a painter I'd commit to canvas
Some of the beauty of this splendid scene.
A magpie pipes on flowering golden wattle
Near where hidden creek towards Selby winds it's way
And on the paddock fence the willy wagtail
With wagging tail on the look out for prey.
He spies a butterfly and from his perch he dashes
And he takes the unsuspecting as he fly
And for Willy wagtail to survive in Emerald
A thing of such great beauty has to die.
But all wild born predators are free of evil
If they don't eat they can't hope to stay alive
Some things of life are only on this Planet
As source of food for others to survive.
The harsh loud laughter of the kookaburra
Pollutes the beauty of the magpie's tune
Some birds are born with gift of song whilst others
Through their short lives can't hope to lilt or croon.
The hilly paddock in full bloom look lovely
And magpie piping on the wattle tree
And hidden creek go whispering down towards Selby
Through undergrowth that reaches to the knee.
The sun shines brightly on the hills of Emerald
And all around looks beautiful and green
And a painter well might capture on his canvas
Some of the beauty of this splendid scene.
Francis Duggan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sun-shines-brightly-on-the-hills-of-emerald/
