A patchwork wider than a quilter's dream, Seams longer than any seamstress ever sewed, Outback Australia spreads its maize of colours, Over Vast plains ruffled by blue hued ranges. From horizon to horizon, a golden glow, Almost unreal, intense, heart warming, Canola plants dance to spring's vespers, Waiting their summer harvest. The adjoining patch contrasts so strong, Stunted growth and grey foliage, Barren patches of wasteland poor, Abandoned by all but the hardiest creatures. Australia's quilt is hemmed by surging tides, Swell crashing into lime stone bluffs, Like a jack in the box it rushes from blowholes, Or carves its way through jagged crumbling arches. As if competing quilters vie for your attention, The hem changes to serpentine tones with whitest silica, Joined to golden sand adorned with swaying palms, Or granite outcrops scarred by tide
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