The scent of gum trees
And a kookaburra’s call
Led us from our park
A fast stream spilling
Over stepping stones into
Shimmering dark pools
Where blue fairy wrens
Asserted their status but
Not daring to rest
From this sylvan scene
Came a warning of thunder
Yet the sky was clear
As in a books page
We cross a stone bridge and turn
To see a waterfall
Water Jets spewing
Spilling over the cliff face
Uncurbed for eons
Voices were silent
As we couldn’t speak to tell
Of our great delight
