Vonda Stanley's collection of early Australian bush poems



There’s a lonely stretch of hillocks:

There’s a beach asleep and drear:

There’s a battered broken fort beside the sea.

There are sunken trampled graves:

And a little rotting pier:

And winding paths that wind unceasingly.

There’s a torn and silent valley:

There’s a tiny rivulet

With some blood upon the stones beside its mouth.

There are lines of buried bones:

There’s an unpaid waiting debt :

There’s a sound of gentle sobbing in the South.


  Leon Gellert

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