Last of the twelve Christmas nights
Three wise men arrive
Uluru Called my Name- a never-ending quest
Yesterday an old friend with whom I’d been at sea
Stopped by my digs to check, what land-lubbing had done to me.
We sat and talked for many hours, reliving sailing days.
Remembering high-seas and hurricanes and desert island cays.
We opened some bottles of Lindeman 45 and we reminisced.
We talked of opens seas and ocean swells and of the girls we missed.
And the time we sailed from Bremen, Our cook Helmut not the best
every day for seven weeks he put our taste buds to the test.
Seemanns Lapskaus, a most unpleasant dish
We often heaved it overboard if you get my drift.
I heard Uluru call my name and said I have to go.
But why right now I cannot say. I simply do not know.
Where to my friend asked as if he were in shock?
I’m off to watch the sun at the place they call Ayers Rock.
I closed my eyes and drifted off with dreamtime in my mind,
And with Matilda underarm I waltzed away, to see what I could find.
I walked for many weeks, just guided by the stars;
Miles away from Kingsgate, the Outback has no bars.
I camped by a Billabong as Patterson had done
It was already dawning and then I saw the sun
Changing Uluru’s colour; the reason why I came.
But gently carried on a breeze, I still could hear my name.