Morning Concerto

Fields of green,
Buds of colour,
Swaying beneath,
The rosy horizon,
Of the mornings,
Great show.

Gently bees and birds,
Seemed to awake,
By morning glow,
Calling breakfast,
To loved ones,
They know.

Peacefully they flutter,
To each open bud,
Almost smelling,
The perfumed stew,
Awaking their senses.

Birds and crickets,
Sing their,
Merry little tune,
Like a mob flash,
In the square.

Bravo comes,
From the wings and paws,
Of bugs and mice,
When nature sings.