Home In May

Now the nesting birds are singing in the green woods far away And above the bracken mountain skylark piping all the day And the jackdaws are stick gathering in their cloaks of black and gray And the hawthorns are resplendent in their white blossoms of the May. Dark faced lambs they romp and frolic in the high field by the hill And Nature's wild flowers are blooming by the moss fringed mountain rill And the cattle in lush pasture sit and chew their cud at ease And the late Spring days are pleasant around the twenty degrees. It is May now in his Homeland the lushest and greenest month of Spring And on high branch of silver birch tree the territorial robin sing His mate on her moss formed nest is sitting in a lower bush nearby His job to warn off intruders and around his borders fly. It is May now in his Homeland the greenest month of all of the year And the swallows fly o'er meadows thousands of miles north of here And though for years he has lived elsewhere and nostalgia he's outgrown At this time of year the migrant remembers the woods and the fields of home. Moorhen with her dark chicks swimming in the calm pool of the stream And the chaffinch always singing when of home the migrant dream And the curlew's notes re-echo in the moorland far away And the home fields at their loveliest in their wildflowers of the May.