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Along the road to Gundagai a dog sat upon a yonder tucker box. Before my very eyes marching bandsmen appeared:

Banging, blowing,
Huffing, glowing,
All in unison,
Never slowing.

Such splendour seldom witnessed, tourists and townsfolk utterly entranced. Every anniversary, near sunset, these apparitions are visible. Numerous sightings have been recorded by newspeople ever since that famous tragedy occurred.

At precisely four o’clock, Commuter Train76 crashed, killing everyone on board. Returning from concert practice, our entire band was wiped out.

Strange how memory works; vivid, colourful, desperately trying any avenue that may relieve pain. Sleep peacefully, merry musicians, remembered with love.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
I was out among the heather
It was there I saw a wondrous sight
A blooming great big feather.
Now, was it from a dinosaur
Or from an ostrich grown outsize
Or was it from another time
A Phoenix, dropped from the skies.
I crept up close to check it out,
It seems to be really dead,
But you never know with Phoenixes,
They change a lot, it’s said.
Gingerly I stretched out my arm,
My fingers trembled with fright,
With my last ounce of courage I grabbed it:
It’s my brother’s flamin’ kite.

There she stood, her majestic splendour shone.
Warm fingers of morning sun caress her;
She is the beauty known as Wellington.
Backdrop to the city, all to her defer,
Her watchful brooding presence comforts all.
Standing on her summit, your senses pound:
The scene below is magical and wide,
A vista with a river winding round,
The Derwent with its tides that rise and fall.
We love our famous mountain sentinel,
To see her fills our hearts with joy and pride.