My family holds many kinds:
   The red, the white of brow, the brown;
And each a life's emptiness finds,
   Where rugged gum trees lift a crown
Up to the kind, life-giving sun
And here live I, the prying one.
 
Round and round the trunk I go,
   Ever upward, round and round,
While my long, prehensile toe
   Makes my foothold safe and sound
To the ragged bark I cling;
   A ragged bark am I
I sing and search and search and sing,
   And in the crannies peep and pry.
 
"Woodpecker" some would have me styled;   
   But well they know, the gum-trees tall,
That my assaults are passing mild
   And most beneficient withal
To hunt the "wog" is my affair,
   To sing awhile, then softly steal
And drag him from his darksome lair
   To be a merry songster's meal.
 
So round and round the tree I go,
   Round and round and ever up;
And many a sceret place I know
   Where I may royally dine or sup.
From tree to tree, from dawn to dark,
   I sing and search and search and sing,
About the ragged storm-scarred bark
   To make a merry banqueting. 

"Den"
Herald, 18 February 1933, p8