Your early morning chorus echoes within my distant memory;
the raucous call of the kookaburra wakes the bush with each daybreak,
the ting of the bellbird echo as the magpies play on their pipes.
The harmony of life in the bush became my lover.

I long for the smell of your gum trees on the fresh morning breeze;
a cuppa in hand, I soak in the dappled landscape,
while the sun goes walkabout through the bush,
reflecting like diamonds dancing on the morning dew.