Trumpet Of The Swan Poem by Ima Ryma

I'm Louie, trumpeter swan,
Born without a trumpeting voice.
I get something to get it on,
A real brass trumpet is my choice.
Made 'fingers' slitting my webbed feet,
So I could play music notes more.
Taps, reveille and mess call beat
Along with other songs galore.
Fans swoon to music from me swanned.
This trumpet of this swan all dig.
Come check me out at the bird pond.
Lincoln Park Zoo is my fav gig.

Yes, a trumpeter swan I am.
With my trumpet this swan do jam.