I remember Utakura; guess it's running in my blood,
How our sleepy little river could become a raging flood;
How the schoolbus rattled crazily down Utakura Hill
Then sped across the water-course to give us kids a thrill.

I remember how the cowshed glowed, an island in the dark,
And the motor thrummed a welcome, in the chill, a warming spark;
How the jerseys lumbered, steaming, from the yard into the bail
Where they chewed through milking, placid, leaning huge against the rail.

I remember frosty mornings, waiting barefoot for the bus,
How we'd shove and shout and scamper; how we'd tease and fight and fuss;
And sunny summer afternoons, the sparkling water cool,
As we splashed and dived and floundered in our rocky river pool.

I remember riding bareback, chasing cattle through the trees;
At a crazy gallop, racing, with my hair swept in the breeze;
Golden paddocks full of hay-bales and a smiling, sweat-stained team
As the barn was packed to bursting and the well-earned beer a dream.

I remember chasing shadows as my path led far away;
Different places, different passions, different work and different play.
Now my sleepy river memories swell once again to foam
For the Utakura valley is calling me back home.