A wonderful memory from the calm of the night
Of a magpie warbling in the moonlight
The beautiful voice quite distinctive and clear
Of a bird whose kind does sing at all times of the year
On a moonlit night in November in the southern Spring
The song of the magpie quite a beautiful thing
At nesting time they sing night and day with borders to defend
Their flute like songs to human ears pleasant a warning to males of their own kind why even pretend
That male birds sing for love when it is defense of territory that inspires in them song
Those who might tell you otherwise do have it wrong
Last night around 11 pm i lay awake in bed
Listening to a magpie singing on a wattle tree in the backyard by the old timber shed
A beautiful memory for me to retain
And to visit again and again and again.
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