Travelling in Victoria, the rugged lines of stoney fences stretched forever.
Here is a poem about the dry stone walls.
"The sun is sinking slowly,
On the plains of Camperdown,
Dry stone walls do stretch forever,
Round the stoney lonely town…….
Time has now forgotten the lonely stoney town.
T’was to keep out all the rabbits,
And the trench was dug down deep,
And ancient hands caressed the stones,
To protect all the english sheep……
Those white and wooly sheep.
But time has passed and rock has moved,
There are crevices in the stone,
And here a bird has left its nest,
It’s babies away have flown…..
Far, far away away they’ve flown.
Ancient faeries come to sleep,
In the nest within the wall,
Snuggled down in thistledown,
Away from the wild, winds call…..
The eerie windy call.
Tis lonely now, the road is long,
Where men have toiled those soils,
And rocky walls still stretch for miles,
Along the plains of Camperdown……
But time has now forgotten the stoney, lonely town."
By Meg Lewer 2022