Birds of a Feather
At night the Whip-Poor-Will sings
A frantic lover's tune Whip-Poor-Will Whip-Poor-Wil
At dawn the Dove's coo coo _soft peace surely brings
Then the Roosters in their chorus appeal
Singing a tune that is slightly shrill
As the gray clouds amass like sand 'pon the beach
Birds sing unrehearsed a tune destined at birth
Each one their own melody a treat
'Tis a delight, laughter, and mirth
To most residence of this great earth
But when the Owl's hoot is heard
A name he calls tells of coming woe
Please sing a song lovely Catbird
Not you Owl with your death bow
Awake me soft cooing Dove tell me its not so
Inspired by Francine Robert's contest
Whimsy in English Quintain
Birds topic chosen
Written this Fourteenth day of April 2013
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