It Is A Flat Old Countryside

It is a flat old countryside of paddocks brown and bare
Where houses are not many and trees and bushes rare
And mixed flocks of straw neck and white ibis in large numbers do abound
With their long bills they probe for slugs and worms in the soft patches of ground

A quiet enough old countryside a few miles from the nearest rural coastal town
From many weeks of little rain looking quite dry and brown
Of wire strained on timber fence posts far as the eyes can see
What seems quite a pretty place to some does not seem so to me

We all see things quite differently or it does seem this way
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder as some do like to say
With little passing traffic on the narrow roadway
The only bird sound the calls of the pale eyed crows on a calm Autumn day

The dark willy wagtail with wagging tail on fence post watching for flies
One who catches his tiny prey by the element of surprise
On a cool Autumn evening in mid April four miles or not much more
Off of the narrow road to the highway to the town on the ocean shore.