On the last day of November scarce a puff of breeze
The day it is warm close to to thirty degrees
The cattle chewing their cuds in the shade of the trees lay
For the coastal Moyne Shire it is quite a warm day
The magpies are warbling on the sunlit trees
And the warm air is full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
With the sun on their dark wings swallows chirp as they fly
And white butterflies are seemingly dancing in the sky
On the last day of the southern calendar Spring
The golden billed male blackbirds in the sunshine do sing
The sweet scent of grass mowed for silage or hay
And in the sunny blue sky only a few clouds of grey
Earthly Utopia it cannot be that far away
From the coastal Moyne Shire on this beautiful day.
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