Is Mother Nature there to lead, in one great symphony,
All creatures who are tuning up to play for you and me?
Does She expect this orchestra to practice every day?
No bidding do they need from Her, for they just love to play!

The crickets play their violins in tune with buzzing bees,
As breezes create harp-like sounds among the leafy trees.
Like magic wand, the baton waves to keep in perfect time
And bids them focus on the beat while all the bluebells chime.

When mood is somehow in reverse and white clouds turn to grey
And come between the skies of blue that dawned at break of day --
The voice of thunder -- rumbling drums; staccato drops of rain;
Percussion joins the cymbals' crash as lightning strikes again!

The scene may change -- the rain is soft - the world looks fresher, too.
The flowers and ferns begin their dance and sway along with you.
The rain, then, stops; the sun shines, too; the music seems to match
The greener greens and yellows, bright, within the pumpkin patch.

The bull-frogs join with the bass; then all the voices ring --
The tenors, altos, sopranos -- all choral voices sing.
The birds, who sound like silver flutes, have winged their way above
To sit atop the highest trees declaring Nature's love!

--Doreen (Adams) Ellis


My Sister's Poetry Pages


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