(he might even endorse it)

I have seen the silos at Stockinbingal –
A name to remember in my dreaming.
Out on the western plains far from the city,
I saw the real Australia – I saw Stockinbingal.

They of the S.C.F. took me here and they took me there,
From Sydney’s sprawling west to Kempsey on Macleay,
To Purfleet on the Manning, Gosford by Brisbane Water,
I met a people warm and kind who all cared about children.

Collegiate Armidale and busily industrialized Tamworth –
Dr Failes, Bob Lipman, committees and crowds of friends –
S.C.F., Rotary, concerned citizens – worried individuals –
Ecumenical church gatherings and Joan of Eastwood.

Wahroonga Turramurra one day and then out, out west,
Out to Murrin Bridge – does it really have to be like this?
Kindly folk in Lake Cargelligo – it really is a big lake
Black swan and pelican, darter, swift and inland sea gulls.

Orange groves and vineyards at Griffith and a great big plus
Wendy and Marcia, two delightful team members working in NSW.
Picnicking in the bush, vegemite, beer and milkless tea –
Over all the call and flight of strange antipodean birds.

Rich Ariah Park, Temora and dear Stockinbingal
Murrumburrah, Harden, Goulburn on the Wollondilly,
Through the Kangaroo Valley and over gracious Hampden Bridge
to that home where the heart is – on a hill at Toolijooa.

Frensham cool, temperate, calm with garlands of lovely girls,
And if I am to tell you of all that it has meant to me
Mere words on paper do not suffice – land of Australia deep in my soul
Forever your golden mirth and happy laughter will stay with me.

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