When Mother Sings
Rabbits go dancing in soft moonlit meadows;
Field mice, less boldly just waltz in the shadows.
Moles and shrews surface, but can’t see a thing;
Young thrushes and sparrows take flight on their wings.
Fawns go cavorting in wide open spaces.
Turtles shed shells and run naked in races.
Owls so enthralled that they don’t give a hoot:
Provincial living’s exceedingly cute.
Crocus choirs raise color-filled hallelujahs;
Queen bee lays eggs because that’s what she does.
Pansies and bloodroot are no longer dormant;
Solomon’s wardrobe ne’er held such a garment.
Young kits leave tree nests and begin exploring.
Cross Old Man Winter is finally snoring.
Temperate days have moods on the upswing;
Nighttime’s for frolicking when Mother sings.
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