In Late February

The first of the calendar Autumn just a week away
On what is a nice and sunny Summer's day
The nearby paddock scenting sweetly of newly mown hay
And the pee wee does sing in the park by the bay
At the end of Summer and Autumn quite near
Late February can be a pleasant time of year
In a voice that's familiar to many and familiar to me
The magpie is fluting on a sunlit gum tree
Sheltering from the sun and the freshening breeze
A fat old lone black angus bull in the cool shade of the trees
Sits chewing his cud at ease and carefree
How calm and contented he does seem to be
High above the parkland the dark swallows fly
And white butterflies seemingly dance in the sky.