The Druids' Festival

The crickets are playing cellos

in the grass blades in the thicket;

how wondrous is their music

if you'll care to listen. 

And the bullfrogs will pull out their basses

To partake in the midnight balladry

See the joy on the musicians' faces

As they cradle their notes soothingly. 

The cicadas will then begin their violins

And with their bows cut sound into the air

Making jubilance and a beautiful din

turning sleeping night into a fair. 

And fireflies, like lanterns lit, will dance the happy movements

Chanting through the air, a happy summer diction

A celebration of clandestine semblance,

trees swaying their secret rhythms 

The midnight symphony we never see,

hidden by the foliage. 

So gather round the fires red,

and hug the wind like a brother

The woods are singly after bed

but hush~ do not tell mother.