No amount of words,
Though spoken all day long,
Can come up to the birds
When they recite their song.
A thousand chirps and trills,
Both beautiful and bright;
It’s no surprise it fills
My heart with sheer delight.
It seems as if they sing
To mark out their terrain
And do so in the spring,
When there’s the greatest gain;
For, once they’ve got that straight,
They sing to woo a mate.
Photo by Lex Melony on Unsplash
