In Birdsland Today

With sharp hook on bill and in feathers of dark brown and gray
The gray butchebird is singing in Birdsland today
In the cool of the morning just after daybreak
His bubbling sort of music none ought to  mistake
The  laughter of the  kookaburra raucous and shrill
Echoes in the high wood of Belgrave South hill
And the birds who build cup shaped nests of mud on low branch of tree
The magpie larks sing their often repeated pee wee
And the birds who do sing every day of the year
The flutes of the magpies melodious and  clear
And the moorhen and wild duck calling on the lake
And the harsh cries of the swamphen none ought to  mistake
In a place from utopia that is not far away
The wild birds are singing in Birdsland today.