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"Music of the Sky"
Sputtering awkwardly to conquer the first morning's air 
While they wake up all around your flower garden 
Promoting an ambiance to a cloudless sunrise 
The emboldened Wood Swallows begin their song

The crack of dawn smiles at you who can't help to smile back 
An enticement to join the activity  
You are a photographer in America  
As your own version to birds of paradise begin  
To tickle your ear with intermittent chirping
 
The fluttering songbirds sing beautifully in soprano
Calling for their unresponsive partner, it might as well be you
To keep them company for a morning babbler who is radiant

Lifting up your spirits 
Showing reluctance for leaving them
But the robins and sun birds deserve attention too
It is you who must take flight now

A kingdom in your continent while everyone puts on a show
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!  
Mezzo-soprano masterpieces offer sweet sounding competition
To lure you in their direction 
You are pulled so many ways and yet
There is no wrong way to go
Tons of free spirits in North America beckon
With fancy allurement for you
A males feathers spread out 

Fascination grows with each sensation to snap a shot
Your patience is well worth the waiting 
Redeemed by the call of the magpies

But the worst part of the day is to come 
When it has the urge to turn into night
And the music of life will cease

Those nocturnal beauties will be punished 
By your absence they go unappreciated
For eight hours while you sleep
A frown composed on your face as you sink to your bed
And there you will settle for the chirping of crickets

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