The Woodland Symphony

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Sitting in my Adirondack Chair down by the creek that flows into the woods, I listened to the birds singing in the trees above me.  When all was calm they did their random chirping. I could hear the squirrels chattering at each other. The woodpecker worked on his nest in the rotten Maple behind me. The bullfrog croaked from the mud in the creek. There were songs for different things that were happening. I noticed when a hawk or a cat came by, all of the birds began raise a ruckus. I thought to myself, this is just like listening to a symphony. I got my small computer and began writing the Woodland Symphony.  This poem is the end result.

The Woodland Symphony

Music pours out from shadow and tree

Calling us all to enjoy a reprieve

 

A melodious symphony straight from the heart

Each tiny instrument playing its part

Miniature voices in perfect pitch

Unwritten scores of notes that are rich

Filled with a beauty beyond man or pen

A symphony of music that will never end

 

Mocking birds solo sopranos and basses

Finding their notes in so many spaces

Piccolo warblers and wren solos start

 Antiphonal melodies straight from the heart

 

The bassoon bull frog comes in now and then

Cicadas’ strings play background blends

Crickets and blue jays fill the air

The snare of the trees adds depth to the pair

Woodpeckers drumming on old hollow trees

A staccato rhythm that floats on the breeze

 

Suddenly right out of the blue

The feline conductor brings all in on cue

With a growing crescendo from blue jay and friends

Celloed instruments calling, “This is the end!”

The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding

As the woods fills with music the finale’s unfolding

 

A thunderous applause from the balcony on high

Brings all to their feet flashes crossing the sky

The concert is over the conductor’s gone home

Performers take bows the music is gone

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