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In the wee hours of the morning,
Before the sun bursts over the horizon;
That is when the birds begin to sing.
It starts with a single chirp,
And then a tra la la;
Soon a melody twirls itself around the sun's rays.
Red-breasted robins, lure worms from the earth
With their hypnotic tune,
Like a snake charmer and his horn.
Blue jays call to one another,
Fluffing their feather as the morning dew
Falls from their azure wings
Larks, mockingbirds and wrens,
Fill the air with a symphony of sound.
Cardinals with wings of red, hum a lovely song.
The deep sounds of an owl hoot,
The morning doves coo, a crow's caw,
Add variety to the chorale
When blended with the fragrance of the daffodil,
Rosebud and cherry blossom,
There is nothing as welcoming as the songbirds. |
