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The Galloway I Love ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

The leaves are falling through the trees
The sun breaks through. A gentle breeze,
The forest floor is crisp and brown
All the leaves come tumbling down.

A rustle in the leaves of gold
A hedgehog in the winter cold,
Down the way I know that call
Wild ducks near a waterfall.

A blackbird is moving to and fro
A deer, perhaps with its doe,
Down the burn the water's cold
A small bridge, where the sheep are sold.

Hedges have that winter feel
Jackdaws know just what to steal,
A robin sitting on a gate
Christmas time, that will be great.

Spider's webs are dripping wet
Down round the corner, where children met,
Puddles filled with shiny stones
Our feet are chilled down to the bones.

As I grow old, I miss the snow
I left my homeland long a go,
Cold frosty mornings most of all
The bleating sheep I miss their call.

I dearly love the rocky shore
A curlew's call across the moor,
The noisy seagulls, the sky is blue
The Galloway I love you true.


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