The Advent Of Song. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

Do you feel the tune?
No said I truthfully
the spoken word is my genre
That is sad my friend
Cried the wind
Yes indeed spoke the rain softly
You need to sing
To free your heart
Said the night
Whistle a song
Pleaded the moon
Like us cried the insects
Of the scented forest
Or as we do, sang
The birds of the treetops
Perhaps there is truth
In what you preach
I answered to them all
So now I sing in harmony
With those that would help
And disharmony with those
That won't co-operate
But still I sing out loud
It is my contribution
To the advent of song