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It was on a beautiful Sunday, that I was relaxing in the park,
Obtaining all the bliss I could, before blue skies grew dark.

The air was filled with songs, and bees were bloom to bloom;
And the stillness of summer heat, drew birds of vivid plume.

There upon my wooden bench, I lounged back and closed my eyes,
Savoring the sounds of birdsong, and lusty birdsong replies.

I lolled in a secluded area, with a nearby musical fountain,
And in the far off distance, I could see sun kissed mountains.

The relentless sun felt warm, as it turned the vistas golden,
As it had on innumerable Sundays, when times had been olden.

Marshmallow clouds were drifting slowly, upon a sky of blue,
Like blooms dedicated to sunshine, to afford a pretty view!

With a sigh of deep contentment, I began to play on my flute,
Like the sunset ends a beautiful day, with a colorful salute.

The dulcet sounds mingled in air, with birdsong all around;
And seemed to rise to heaven, then drift back to the ground!

In the midst of the magical symphony, I saw a peculiar thing,
Colorful birds began flying to me, while singing upon a wing.

Sure that I was imagining things, I just continued playing,
But more and more birds still came, and blooms began swaying!

What manner of spell was this? My astonishment knew no bounds!
For whoever heard of birds and humans, in a symphony of sounds?

And how could the blooms be dancing, as if in a lovely dream,
As birds perched nearby, on my bench and in bushes so green?

When at last I tired of playing, the birds began to fly away;
And the blooms grew still as statues, awaiting a blustery day.

It took time for me to perceive, that what I'd seen was real;
But when I finally did believe, it caused an undoubted thrill!

One day while in my garden green, I began playing my flute;
And many birds came near singing, in gay harmonious pursuit.

I danced and whirled and played, as garden flowers also danced; 
And the beautiful day wore on, as the golden summer romanced!

These days of joyful enchantment, made me love being a maestro.
Once your soul has thrilled to music, you must never let it go!

I played in fields and meadows, or with seagulls on the beach,
Who flew down the coast singing, when the sun was like a peach.

I was the Piquant Pied Piper, whom no one was required to pay,
My payment was a luxury of bliss, that was available any day.

Like the dazzling luxury of gems, uncovered deep in the ground,
Or the blooms that drink the sunshine, without making a sound! 

So far I had only played my flute, in the most secluded places;
And my flute had left on humanity, not the slightest of traces.

But I had seen the butterflies, dancing with birds in midair,
While the honeybees hummed softly, as if knowing we were there!

One day I was walking the path of blooms, in the noonday park.
Redbirds were following me, and flowers danced with no remark.

As I turned to look around, I saw hordes of children behind me,
Attracted by my other followers, and purely enchanted, obviously!

And we did a circuit of the park, with radiant beauty on parade,
As children laughed and danced, at the sights and sounds we made.

I'm the Piquant Pied Piper, performing plentiful tunes plummy,
Sassy, smooth, serenader, spreading joy when skies are so sunny!
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