BirdForum

Their beauty sad to say will not last long a few days to live that is all
The white butterflies in the garden on this warm day in the Fall
So little time in their bloom of beauty to mate and lay their eggs and to fly
Around the wildflowers and the flowering bushes when the sun shines bright in the sky
Of death they would not have a sense of but a few days in time to them must seem long
Their is so much to learn of Nature though Nature keeps proving us wrong...

Francis Duggan

In the twilight of the evening just half an hour before nightfall
The long billed corellas high on the gum trees on their roosting branches do call
On the fourteenth day of the Autumn with an Autumnal coolness in the breeze
I do like these cool and fresh evenings with a high of under twenty degrees.

The possums will soon leave their tree cavities and house ceilings after nightfall they do venture out
The big brush tails and the smaller leaf nest building...

Francis Duggan

March in the Southern Fall seems a long way from the Spring
But this morning at dawn I heard the magpie sing
His kind are known to sing all through the year
And their flute like notes always pleasant to hear
Their music once heard you never can get wrong
In rain, wind and sunshine they burst into song
Whilst some birds only sing in the thunder and rain
The wonders of Nature are hard to explain
But the magpies of Australia sing all the year...

Francis Duggan

The drought has left the stony paddocks looking bare and brown
The Countryside around Mt Rouse and Penshurst rural Town
The thistles are growing plentiful where stones and rocks abound
And signs of Mt Rouse's volcanic eruptions are everywhere around.

This is a very old land 'twas old in the Dreamtime
A Land that has inspired stories and inspired the poets to rhyme
In the Countryside around Mt Rouse dinosaurs once ranged free
It is a very old...

Francis Duggan

On the parkland trees in the pale moonlight
The boobook owl calls in the calm of the night
The little birds wake from their sleep and they hear
The voice that to them is the echo of fear,
A bird that stays hidden from the light of day
He searches the trees at night for smaller prey
A flycatcher, a silvereye or thornbill would be nice to eat
The little brown owl is a lover of meat,
The call of the boobook one cannot mistake
He calls in...

Francis Duggan