The Sutherland Creek Is Dry
Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 8:28 pm
The Sutherland Creek is Dry
This is a place for chattering birds, for green, red, yellow and blue.
They’re active and busy and cheerful and bright, they always have something to do.
But now they are silent, they cannot be seen, and I know the reason why,
For the birds rely on the Sutherland Creek, and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for lizards and snakes, for flickering tongues and scales,
For small, stumpy legs and for glittering eyes and for long, reptilian tails;
But the lizards and snakes cannot be found, no matter how hard you try,
For they, too, rely on the Sutherland Creek, and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for rounded stones, reflecting the midday sun,
For water that burbles above and around them, having magnificent fun;
For deep, dark pools where nought can be heard, save for the buzz of a fly,
But there’s none of this now at the Sutherland Creek, for the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for the world to dance, awash with the joys of life,
For pleasure and ease to banish disease, and any last traces of strife,
But if you stand now by the Sutherland Creek, you will fall to your knees, and you’ll cry,
For joy depends on the Sutherland Creek…and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
© Stephen Whiteside 19.03.2018
This is a place for chattering birds, for green, red, yellow and blue.
They’re active and busy and cheerful and bright, they always have something to do.
But now they are silent, they cannot be seen, and I know the reason why,
For the birds rely on the Sutherland Creek, and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for lizards and snakes, for flickering tongues and scales,
For small, stumpy legs and for glittering eyes and for long, reptilian tails;
But the lizards and snakes cannot be found, no matter how hard you try,
For they, too, rely on the Sutherland Creek, and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for rounded stones, reflecting the midday sun,
For water that burbles above and around them, having magnificent fun;
For deep, dark pools where nought can be heard, save for the buzz of a fly,
But there’s none of this now at the Sutherland Creek, for the Sutherland Creek is dry.
This is a place for the world to dance, awash with the joys of life,
For pleasure and ease to banish disease, and any last traces of strife,
But if you stand now by the Sutherland Creek, you will fall to your knees, and you’ll cry,
For joy depends on the Sutherland Creek…and the Sutherland Creek is dry.
© Stephen Whiteside 19.03.2018