East of Melbourne is the town called “Lakes”. Travel the highway, make no mistakes.
Victoria minute yet comforts all. Escape and drive to meet the call.
Please do come for a family care. Vans for many and places to share.
Open are we whether night or day. Await the mob to run and play.
Families have lived here for many a year. Visitors drive slow and drop a gear.
Walk to the beach a dune to hide. Sometimes a camel, a hump to ride.
Shed one’s clothes a sunbake found. Better to sever than walk the hound.
Sand so clean and miles of beach. Throw a line for a fish to reach.
Nowa Nowa, bike trails to ride. Into the forest where one’s can hide.
Paths a must for those to walk. Listen to birds who chirp and talk.
Rivers and lakes with scenes to shoot. Smart phone ready for a bandicoot.
Why must wait, all must come. No time to waste and suck a thumb.
Return to the city with a highway of cars. Brakes applied and vibrating jars.
Signals of many to change the lane. Arriving home with a headache pain.
With minds now signal, “it’s time to run”. Back to “Lakes”, the place for fun.
Many are troubled in this world gone mad. Our confidence confirmed this is no, “fad”.
Written by Raymond McCamley, September 2024.
