The Banks of MLC

Trees watch and guard the gates 

As the wind whistles, 

Letting the branches dance and sway,

The sun like a golden orb in the sky, 

Beams down at the river, 

Who sings a lullaby to drift the flowers off to sleep

Spiky caterpillars 

Crunch their way through leaves,

Scavenging for mates,

Golden Wattle like a 

Colourful, radiant 

Display of fireworks,

Autumn leaves like rockets,

Getting ready to launch

Into outer space!

The brackish waves 

Violently haul the sand......

Dragging it home.