Of humankind they have lost most of their fear
And they only bound off if you get too near.
To Anderson’s inlet through wood there’s a path way
And in that wood the shrike thrush in cloak of gray
Pipe all day long his harmonious notes ring clear
Such pleasant sounds sweet music to the ear.
The wattlebirds on the flowering banksias call
They sing all day from daybreak till nightfall
They defend their source of food aggressively
And they chase off others from their territory.
At Anderson’s inlet natural beauty abound
Small crab holes on the mudflats all around
These tiny crabs so sensitive to sound
You see them briefly then they go to ground.
I know of a haven for the wild and free
And such a place to live might well suit me
And i have this dream that on some future day
I’ll live at Point Smythe close to Venu Bay.