The lovers write of morning birds

Songs sung to make the day

Pleasant. A reader’s heart comfirms

The lovely sound of birds at play.

Life on the farm thus portrayed

With morning sounds so pleasant

But what reality arrayed

In truth is rather different.

The morning birdsong on my ranch

Is too loud for my ears to hear

The songs that birds sing on the branch.

All I hear is rattling gear,

Crying kids and cows mooing.

I hear tractors, angry men and water,

Rotten curses and grandpa pooing.

Indeed, the thuds of grandma’s walker

And everything unsweet in sound

Is the birdsong on my ranch. My alarm

But if I close my eyes and pound

My ears full cotton,

I can imagine the poet’s descriptive farm,

The birdsong my ranch is wanting.

Ranch Poem #2: “Morning Birdsong”