I am the wind across the Downs,

I travel where I please,

At times I’m just a zephyr,

At other times, a breeze.

I may come without a warning

On a day that’s stifling still,

To fan the land and creatures

In the gullies and the hills.


I might stir the barley restless

And, if I choose to take the chance,

I’ll bend a field of sorghum

Or make the chickpeas dance.


I’ll come whipping through the barbed wire fence

To cool the grazing cattle;

Or get the phone-wires signing,

And make the old sheds rattle.


I wave my warming Summer wand

For grapes upon their vines,

And quickly clap the washing dry

On backyard laundry lines.


I may feed a raging bushfire

Although it’s not my fault –

The culprits are the arsonists

And the cracking lightning bolts.


I can come from any quarter,

And when I’m in full zest,

You’ll feel me North or South or East –

Or blasting from the West.


I might bring forth a Wintry gust

To make the nightbirds shiver,

Or stir up tiny wavelets

On surface of a river.


Across the quilted paddocks

Over homes and highways

Down the shaded bush tracks

Or up here, in the skyways.


All through time and seasons

I go without a care.

Happy just to be a part

Of the Great Ocean of air.


I bid you a merry greeting

As I play my airy tune;

And hope you enjoy my bounty

When I visit – sometime soon.