Ode to the Birds

April 6, 2009
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Ode to the birds
Their chirps are so unchanged
Everything is in some kind of routine
And still they fly through the endless range

They chime in rhyme
To think there will come a time
When that sweet joyous ring
Will fade like the flowers of spring

But time and time again
So often they seem to be my friend
The sound that filled the summer’s breeze
In time will return to us with ease

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