The lagoons like jewels in the yellow plain
Where the dry grass waits for the coming rain,
Like a necklace won from a tomb of old
Set with sapphires bright in a chain of gold.
Water buffalo in the herds so vast,
I still see them there in the distant past.
In a pale blue sky wheel the circling hawks
While the jabiru in the reed beds stalks.
And the geese in clouds that block out the sun
So it seems to set like the day is done,
As I sit and dream in a reverie,
How the north was then, in my mind I see.
Jabiru pronounced Jab – a – roo
Poem copyright © Dennis N. O'Brien, 2012
Image © Tourism NT via Wikipedia