Where The Old Brucknell Creek

In and out of Ralph Illidge Sanctuary it slowly winds it's way
Through Naringal East by night and by day
The Brucknell Creek that is so old in time
That has been the inspiration of the writers of song, story and rhyme
For to write of it's dark natural beauty as silently it crawls on
The creek will be flowing long after the last breath from the last writer has gone
Centuries ago in the land of trees
The Country's first people had their corroborees
By the Brucknell Creek that by another name they knew by
The creek to them sacred and their water supply
From Naringal Eastwhere they roamed far and wide
The tribes they have gone but there their spirits reside
Where the old Brucknell Creek silently does flow
In the treed countryside dark, deep and slow.