Friday, November 21, 2014

Why Tell Me About It

Why tell me about it since i know all too well
That i am not the only one who pens doggerel
There are many like me to be found everywhere
In every village, town and city in the big World out there

Who is a good poet or what is a good poem why do you ask me
Since i am one who does not have a literary degree
Though i am one who has had a liking for rhyme
Since i was a young man going way back in time

And who could not feel inspired to rhyme on this warm Spring day
Wafting in the breeze from the nearby paddocks the sweet scent of freshly mown hay
On a forecast high for the day of twenty three degrees
The pleasant though familiar song of the blackbird is carrying in the breeze

And the flute like songs of the magpies melodious and clear
The birds who do sing every day of the year
Most birds once familiarized with one cannot get wrong
They become recognizable by their chirping or song

The weather is warm and breezy and bright
And white butterflies seemingly dancing in the sunlight
And dark welcome swallows chirping as they fly
On pursuit of flying insects across the blue sky

The first of the calendar Summer is just nine sleeps away
From this beautiful and bright November Spring day
The warm air is full of the buzzings of flies and of bees
With a temperature high of twenty three degrees.

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