Song of the Bushland

The gum trees sing an old song,
Where wombats dig and stay strong.
The sun shines gold on sandy shores,
And whispers to the land once more.

Lizards lie on rocks in the sun,
While magpies sing as dawn has begun.
Clear creeks flow through mountain bends,
With stories that the rivers send.

The dunes are wide, the saltbush grows,
In every breeze, the land still knows,
Of fires long gone, of rains that mend,
Of life that moves with nature's blend.

We walk softly on this ground,

Listening to nature's sound.

A forest grows from every seed,

A future built with every deed.