An August Night In Sherbrooke

In the moonlit park the spur winged plover trilling As above his breeding territory he fly And territorial brush tail possums hiss and bicker And boobook owl calls on the gums nearby. Not far distant the ruddy fox is barking And countless stars are flickering in the sky And the night air cool but I have known nights to be colder And the weather for the time of year quite dry. A poet amongst these splendid scenes of beauty Might find the inspiration for a song And sing about the night and it's wild creatures And the creek through undergrowth rippling along. It's moments such as these that live on with us The sound of Nature is a soothing sound And I almost feel I can touch the calm beauty That is so near and everywhere around. The sound of Nature is a thing of beauty It is a thing that is as old as time It has inspired the great music composers And it has inspired the song makers to rhyme. When darkness falls the shy nocturnal creatures From their day hiding places venture out They leave their trees and cavities and burrows To roam the woods and countryside about. An August night in the old Shire of Sherbrooke In weather calm and scarce a puff of breeze The stringybarks and gray gums and acacias In the moonlight stand like giant silver trees. Not far distant a hunting fox is barking And boobook owl utters his mopoke cry And frogmouth on a low branch softly calling And countless stars are flickering in the sky.