The currawong the crow sized birds are piping in the rain <br />And everytime she visualize she fancies she can hear again <br />The kookaburras laughing and the white cockies calling on the tall gum trees <br />And the flute like song of the butcherbird carrying in the freshening breeze. <br /> <br />Compared to the noisy city Nature's voice is not loud <br />And she long for places south of here far from the noisy crowd <br />On the busy streets of Sydney the cars race to and fro <br />She often yearns for the Sherbrooke hills and the life she used to know. <br /> <br />In her old home in Selby down south and far away <br />The white backed magpie flutes his song for to greet the dawn of day <br />She came north to the big city for the reward of better pay <br />And the girl may leave her mountain but memories of her mountain with her stay. <br /> <br />She left her home in Selby by the Puffing Billy track <br />For to work for better pay in Sydney and though she won't be going back <br />For to live again in Sherbrooke fond memories with her will remain <br />Of the currawong on the tall trees piping in the wind and rain.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-often-yearns-for-the-sherbrooke-hills/
