Performing.

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In the wood down with the trees,
Next to the river, across from the breeze.
He built a platform and gave it to me,
There I could sing so happy I’d be.

I would dance and float, move with the sound
Twirling and whirling, in my own concert ground.
Squirrels would accompany me cracking nuts from their drey,
On harmonies pidgeons, on the reeds rabbits would play.

People would hear us across in the park,
but we’d go on playing long after dark.
On bright warm mornings around about five,
my neck of the woods would come alive.

A haunting sound would begin with the sun,
people would be wondering from whence it had come .
One day it will bring people for me to please,
They’d lure me away from my place in the trees.

I’d sing with an orchestra and a big brass band,
Encore! they’d shout as they would all stand.
I would rather perform with creatures and ferns,
My voice unchallenged, my fingers un burned.

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2 thoughts on “Performing.

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