by Bill Yarrow
Oh, we have a favourite kookaburra,
Who has a favourite tree.
His colour is really quite thorough,
That’s plain for all to see.
He calls around in early morn,
Then laughs will all his glee.
Thus, awakening all at dawn,
By calling from his tree.
Its only an ordinary gum,
But to kooka, it’s the shot.
Here he has surely a lot of fun,
Surely, it’s his very favourite spot.
He looks resplendent in the sun,
As it rises from the east,
His friends all come one by one,
To all enjoy his music feast.
Through the day he goes away,
No one really knows just where.
We don’t follow all the day,
As we know he’ll always be aware.
At evening time, he calls again,
And then he’ll just laugh and laugh.
His call is certainly not in vain,
As his friends come also to laugh.
I think he makes us happy,
Just to watch him be free,
It certainly is good therapy,
To see him in his favourite tree.
