An orchestra 

Of gladness

Ushered in

This first soft 

Day of May

While phoebes called

A joyful tiding

To the morn

The thrushes

Clucked their alto notes

And staccato sparrows

Chirped along

With the trilling flutes

And woodland song

Of other friends

I cannot name

But they all knew

The score

A far off woodpecker

Kept the beat

And even the

Raucous crows

Sang sweet

From every quarter

Of the wood

The morning music

Echoed round

And my heart was filled

With morning sound

Sara Mathews     May 2016