In Late February

The first of the calendar Autumn just a week away On what is a nice and sunny Summer's day The nearby paddock scenting sweetly of newly mowed hay And the pee wee does sing in the park by the bay At the end of Summer and Autumn quite near Late February can be a pleasant time of year In a voice that's familiar to many and familiar to me The magpie is fluting on a sunlit gum tree Sheltering from the sun and the freshening breeze A fat old lone black angus bull in the cool shade of the trees Sits chewing his cud at ease and carefree How calm and contented he does seem to be High above the parkland the dark swallows fly And white butterflies seemingly dance in the sky.