In serenading calls
I felt the magic of the great halls
Touching hands and touching hearts
Gleaming from the Sun
I could see the past and what was to come...
Prose swelled from Aotearoan waters
The windless watchet whelmed my Muse in Divine
Descants of inspired congenial art...
Milford Sound is graced
By astounding views extolled by natural choirs
We flew and breathed it hard...
In denigrating throes
You'll feel the whipping of the way home
That across the Tasman lies
There it starts again so breathe in hard...