Southward Bound Poem by Joseph T. Renaldi

Though it is a tranquil morning,
I know it will be a sad day
when the attractive avian friends
fly southward as Summer begins to fade.

Their merriment and daily presence
will gradually disappear from sight,
and I can't help but feel unhappy
thinking of their strenuous flight.

But, once they return again in the Spring,
the frolicking and song making free,
the happiness they bring I will hold in store
as they begin to nest in the towering trees.