NOSTALGIA

Inland north from Port August to the Barkly Tableland,

From the eastern blue-gray mountains to the Murchison’s red sand,

The plains and hidden valleys thoughout that vast terrain

Know the heavy heady perfume

Of Mulga after rain.

Than you huddle in scant shelter as the daylight turns to rust,

And the wind blasts jagged patterns in the blinding choking dust,

The storm swirls muddy torrents, thunder crashes in your brain,

Of mulga greeting rain.

The glorious inland sunrise paints morning over night,

The rainbow’s changing colour blends to sunshine golden bright,

The beauty of the inland, so intense it’s almost pain,

Then the freshly scented breezes

Tell of mulga soft with rain.

The spinifex is blooming in wide fields like golden wheat

And parakeelya spreading in the shadows lush and sweet,

Myriad eyes of black and scarlet, Sturt peas cover all the plain,

Is of mulga green with rain.

The everlasting daisies form a carpet pink and white,

A fairyland of frosting, a vision of delight,

Ghost gums dance in mystic moonlight to a whispering refrain,

Yet the spirit of the inland

Lives in mulga after rain.

See the glory of the inland as you travel far and wide,

Blooming flowers in the deserts where the willy willies ride,

But the haunting living memory to bring you back again,

Is the breath of pure nostalgia

Born of mulga scented rain.

By Dick Turner

Ph: 80 8962 1235