Owing to the presence in the upper air of microscopic dust blown from remote northen deserts, snow that fell at Mount Hotham and elsewhere recently was light pink in color. This report, together with tale sof our red rain, black swans, wlaking fishes and egg-laying, duck-billed platypusses, may well cause wonder amongst simple folk in older lands.
At Slumberton-on-Slow, When the rustics gather round To quaff their ale, they hear a tale That wakens doubt profound -- A wild, wild tale that comes by mail From Gaffer Gandy's Joe, Who left his home long since to roam In the land of the light pink snow. And the talk goes to and fro: "Be goom, laad, that be rich! Pink snow, he said; an' the rain be red, But swans be black as pitch! A greaat laad for romance Be Gaffer Gandy's Joe. Ho, the kangaroo have pockets too! In the land of the pale pink snow." At Slumberton-on-Slow They yarn in the inn's tapp-room: "Worms, Joe do write, they be a sight, An' six foot long. Be goom! Birds, he do say, laughs loud all day, And the cherry stones do grow Outside the skin, an' not within, In the land of the pale pink snow. "The lizards shed their tails, An' the trees they sheds their bark, But keeps their leaves while winter grieves -- (Did e'er 'ee hear sick tork?) The squirrels they fly by night from high, Says Gaffer Gandy's Joe. An' the fish have legs, an' the beasts lays eggs In the land of the pale pink snow."
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2003|