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

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