MUTTERINGS #48: COCKATOOS

By Veen
Panasonic Lumix DMC TZ11
"YELLOW CRESTED COCKATOOS"

WHITE COCKATOOS

Now the autumn maize is growing,

Now the corn-cob fills,

Where the Little River flowing

Winds among the hills.

Over mountain peaks outlying

Clear against the blue

Comes a scout in silence flying,

One white cockatoo.

Back he goes to where the meeting

Waits among the trees.

Says, "The corn is fit for eating;

Hurry, if you please."

Skirmishers, their line extendiing,

Shout the joyful news;

Down they drop like snow descending,

Clouds of cockatoos.

At their husking competition

Hear them screech and yell.

On a gum tree's high position

Sits a sentinel.

Soon the boss goes boundary riding;

But the wise old bird,

Mute among the branches hiding,

Never says a word.

Then you hear the strident squalling:

"Here's the boss's son,

Through the garden bushes crawling,

Crawling with a gun.

May the shiny cactus bristles

Fill his soul with woe;

May his knees get full of thistles.

Brothers, let us go."

Old Black Harry sees them going,

Sketches Nature's plan:

"That one cocky too much knowing,

All same Chinaman.

One eye shut and one eye winkin' --

Never shut the two;

Chinaman go dead, me thinkin',

Jump up cockatoo."

Andrew Barton ('Banjo') Paterson
Australian Poet 1864 - 1941

MUTTERINGS #48: COCKATOOS