Saturday, 6 April 2013



Golden wattle scents the air, it's blossoms froth amongst the boughs,
the waterhole reflects the sky, the silver gums and passing clouds.
A large lace monitor wanders past; by our presence he is not fazed
and all seems right here with the world on this  the loveliest of days.

Above we hear 'keeyew, keeyew' and spot a kestrel flying high,
soaring on wings so gracefully , suspended 'gainst the azure sky
and Crows are flying on the wing...with raucous cry, discordant note.
Until they land upon a long dead stinking carcass full of bloat.

A breeze has caused the shivery grass to shake and tremble, bow and feint,
and stirred a little willy willy, twisting dust filled to the gate
where it collapses, disappears and casts the dust and leaves aside.
No longer wants to play it seems. I wonder where it's gone to hide.

Along the rutted, dusty track, with all its lethal turns and twists
are Cypress Pines.  The track itself festooned with rocks as big as fists.
Across the causeway near the dam a small trickle of water slides.
Must go and check that out some time, before the whole dam wall subsides.

And as we drive into the camp we see beside the donga there
two juvenile emus head out, quite unconcerned, showing no care.
Still baby plumage they display, two soft and fluffy feather balls.
Hurrying on stage like ballerinas running late for curtain call.

With tutus in soft autumn hues of cream and brown and softest gray
urgently both run down the track -  ' Go straight ahead the stage's this way.
No use now darting to the wings we have the audience enthralled
So pirouette and entrechat' - Two emu's await natures call.

Too soon they exit to stage left...the track is empty once again
and we continue on our way looking for words that would explain
how beautiful we found the sight of our emus and their display.
Our spirits were uplifted by Nature and the Emu Ballet.

We paused a moment just to take in all the beauty close at hand
the lengthening shadows cross the scrub, roosting Corella's noisy band.
And then down by the dam we saw our two emus both with heads down
Responding to applause no doubt...they bowed, then gracefully sank to ground.

A fluff of feathers, flutter the Dying Swan they sunk
to rest beside the reed filled dam whose muddy  waters they'd just drunk.
No doubt quite thirsty from exertion and their run along the track
we left them peacefully together...we'll see them both next time we're back.

Maureen Clifford ©

TAKE A BOW - Photo by  +Gabrielle Bryden  ABC Pool

Heading on stage to perform.

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