In the foothills in the haze suburbs are lying dreaming.
In the foreground city towers in morning sun are gleaming.

From Sibley Road I see the snake-like path the Brisbane River runs,
Which the majestic arch of the metallic Gateway spans.

The spires on Mt. Coot-tha reach up to the sky,
Half-hidden in the early morning mist that is drifting by.

The purple ranges form a back-drop to a city fast asleep.
Like sentinels the mountains their dawn vigilant watch keep.

To the eastern side of Sibley Road the blue-grey ocean lies
Beneath the morning sun and pink and purple skies,

Birds stir and early morning walkers stride the strand.
I see them in the distance, small dots against the land.

The air is crisp and clean with early autumn cool.
There’s not a ripple on the bayside wading pool.

No waves disturb the surface of the tranquil blue-grey tide
The Norfolk Pines stand tall on the still sea’s side.