He love the unfenced land of his World flat and wide <br />The buzzing of the flies in his own countryside <br />The yap of the wild dog just as the sun goes down <br />The silence of the sky far from the lights of town. <br /> <br />His people had lived here for sixty thousand years or more <br />Before the paler types came from that distant shore <br />To claim the Land as theirs yet in his tribal song <br />The land was always here and the land to none belong. <br /> <br />He love the wide brown land of the country sparse in trees <br />To lay beside a rock and shelter from sun and breeze <br />And live the carefree life free of the clock's dictate <br />In one of the few places where time can be left to wait. <br /> <br />He love the tribal songs and the old corroboree <br />And the Dreamtime stories by the campfire with his kin and family <br />And hear the male roos cough in the stillness of the night <br />In the brown timeless land amongst the peace and quiet. <br /> <br />In the wide brown outback the land of the big sky <br />In this land he was born and in this land he will die <br />One of the last few Aussies his history he can trace <br />Back to the ancient Dreamtime of Australia's oldest race.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-love/
