Their sulphur crests they raise as the whim takes them of their ways there is little she does not know
She has known them since she was a child in the mid fifties and that’s going back some five decades ago.
She is the last poet of the mountains she has loved Nature since she was a child
She loves the flora and fauna around her the wild born creatures that live free and wild
She loves the gums, the banksias and wattles she writes a poem on Nature every day
She has written of the creek in the Woodland that to the river babbles on it’s way.
She has written of the laughing kookaburra and she has written of the pied currawong,
The gray butcherbird, the gray shrike thrush and yellow robin she even recognize them by their song
the white backed magpie and crimson rosella are birds that she so often hear and see
And she can tell you by their song or whistle the blackbird and the myna and pee wee.
She is the last poet of the mountains her type of person nowadays very rare
A devoted student of old Mother Nature her knowledge of Nature in her poems she share
With all of those who like to read her poetry and as a poet few with her to compare
She has written much about the ways of Nature and for Nature she is one who truly care.