Something there is that does love this river,
That sews the delicat liquid down its seam
It spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And generates life along its sometimes rocky verge.

The work of man is another entity:
What was once bordered bordered by native riparian
Dictating multitudes of conversant breeds now control selfo-evidently,
But alas continues the Journey of life.

The water quality may not be quite faultless
Tainted with chemicals from farming practices above,
But both the platypus and swamp hen are flourishing,
Whilst beneath the surface animal life displays a movement.

And although now is not as it was
We humans can all learn from past mistakes
Proving beyoung life’s impurity beauty shines a light.
Something there is that does not love this river.