Mount Kedumba,
I do wonder,
What you hide,
In The Jamieson,
In solitude,
Vast and wide,
Many ghost gums wander
free,
As separate souls they
roam,
A person, not a tree,
This is their home,
Do the hiders worry?
Well do they?
The seekers are seeking
rest,
And insane they’ll
become,
‘Till they’re visited
by their mess,
If I were to be
hidden,
I would count but
these valleys forbidden,
For the rivers, they
give me peace,
Only rarely would I
climb those thousand steps,
To haunt the ones I
love,
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