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Baby Birds
It is the ending of a lovely day
The baby birds are causing Mom distress.
I hear them peeping in the big oak tree.
“Now hush yourselves”, their weary mother says.
“We must be up to greet the early dawn.
When God sets fire to all the eastern sky,
Be there before the early worms are gone.
Now quiet down, I’ll sing a lullaby.”
Her sweet voice rises, lulling babes to sleep.
All night sounds still to hear the lovely song
And from young birdlings not another peep
With God and Mother near the whole night long.
Copyright ©
Joyce Johnson
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