The elms stand naked their brown leaves on the ground
On the gravel path by the winds scattered around
The overnight frost has left the park looking gray
Just after daybreak on a cold Winter’s day.
The magpie on the blackwood tree seems brave to sing
He sings all year round though more often in Spring
But his voice sounds melodious at all times of year
And on a frosty morning so pleasant to hear.
The sparrows in the parkland are chirping away
In all sorts of weather they chirp through the day
Weavers classified as songbirds though that seems a bit wrong
Since sparrows as such they do not have a song.
A cold and frosty morning around zero degrees
The currawongs calling on the tall gum trees
Some say they sing their loudest prior to and during rain
And their currawong notes they repeat over and again.
A cold Winter’s morning the park gray to white
Will green in the sun from the frost overnight
And the song of the magpie one cannot mistake
He sings on the blackwood just after daybreak.