In the lee of the mountains with snow on the ground
Sits a quaint little village with hills all around
No sign can be seen of the green grassy hills
For they lay neath the
snow in the wintery chill
But the people are
happy and get on with their lives
All the brothers and
sisters and husbands and wives
For they know that
soon the snow will turn to rain
And then they will see
their green hills again
In the rain forests the Trogon dwells
Eating insects, fruit,
and seeds
A bird with the most
lustrous plumage
Nesting in holes in
the trees
You’ll find the Pademelon
Beneath the rainforest
trees
As they hop in search
of food
In the cool of the evening breeze
Its springtime
When beauty is released
Like a hand stitched
Patchwork masterpiece
Nature shows off
Her springtime finery
Spread like a throw
Over all you see
No finer sight the eye will see
Than the hillsides in
May
A carpet of green
spread out
So as to take your
breath away
The high melt waters rush
Feeding springs annual
event
As over the ancient
rock
Water tumbles
effervescent
As it heads inexorably
to the sea
In its headlong
descent
The early morning sun
Glints on the ambling
stream
Where the Kingfisher
hunts
And lovers go to dream
