ACCOMPANIMENT

Add a bit of music to this verse
and transform it to a song,
one in which you might immerse
and listen to the whole day long.

For background, rustling fallen leaves
as a squirrel seeks a last acorn
joined by a mourning dove which grieves
the loss of warmth this winter morn.

The woodwinds are the ducks and geese
whose notes vary from low to high
which they all gladly release
while conducting through a cobalt sky.

Woodpeckers play the deep bass drum
while hollowing a dead pine tree.
Breeze stirred small limbs can then become
the kettle section, rhythm free.

The wind will play the power line
like violins sounding soft and deep
while trickling waters will define
a tinkling bell from a small seep.

Add all the other sylvan sounds
howls, deer snorts and squirrel barks
crows' cacophony when an owl's around
plus songbirds from finches to larks.

All add to the chorus of this song
in forest halls where people seldom come
heard by a poet who for far too long
sat scribbling with a quiet hum
trying to change plain verse into a song.