Love song
Oil on Belgium Linen, 93 x 63cm
The lyrebird was up early, cleaning the handwoven rug near the breakfast table. He raked carefully with his long toes to find any hidden insects trapped between the fine golden threats. Oh, how he missed Sylvia on this morning! He could see her everywhere in the house. Over there on the green wall hung the tapestry of native flowers she was so fond of: eucalypt blossoms and banksias. And then the artwork! They loved going to galleries, collecting art that spoke to them. He still remembered the day when they acquired the two small pieces by Thea Proctor and Roy de Maistre.
Then there were the two seascapes that they purchased whilst holidaying near Avoca. What a fabulous time they had sitting on the beach gazing at the horizon…
His gaze travelled over the cabinet with all the nicknacks, the porcelain urn from their first overseas trip to see the Great Wall of China.
As his gaze settled on the flamboyant gouldian finch wallpaper she so adored, he was overwhelmed by his longing for her. With tears streaming from his big beady eyes, he stretched his neck upwards, pouted his lips, and started to sing his love song for her. His repertoire was impressive. There was the kookaburra’s call, the whip crack of the shy whip bird, the roar of the ocean, and every other single sound that he mimicked to woo her, adore her, and proclaim his undying love for her….