Listen to the orchestra,
The orchestra of spring.
Nature representing
Woodwinds, brass, percussion, strings.

There’s only one thing missing
To make a musical song.
If there’s a conductor
All could hum along.

I’ll pretend that I’m in charge
And tap upon the stand.
All of nature silent
Until I point my hands.

First I’ll cue the woodpecker
Beating like a drum.
It keeps us all together
With a dum tah-dah dum tah-dah dum.

Then, I’ll point to oak trees
Holding leaves from fall.
The breeze will rustle them around
Stirring a cymbal’s Shhhh-shall.

To complete the percussion section,
We need the drums called snares.
I’d ask the snake to share a sssss
It’s a percussion group so rare.

Then, I’d cue the cardinals,
Robins, wrens and jays
To chirp, whistle, burrrr-eeeet and sing
Like the clarinets and flutes can play.

The whip-o-wills and bobolinks
Will use their special tones
To add melodic harmony
Like tenor saxophones.

Other woodwind instruments
Like oboes and bassoons
Are represented by the crows,
Geese and raspy loons.

And then, I’d signal to the moose
To give his mating call.
Without the sound of brilliant horns,
We have no song at all.

Next, the squirrels scream and eeeeek
Like trumpets with a mute.
Mingling with the other sounds
Of clarinets and flutes.

One more brass to fill in low
Is the old slide trombone.
The eeey-haw of the donkey
Has a sound all of its own.

All that’s left in this fanfare
Is bringing in the strings.
Violins are mimicked well
By katydids rubbing wings.

Violas have deeper tones
Like sounds from wings of bees.
Although they’re always busy,
They give their songs for free.

I’d point my hand at the frogs
And bring their ree-deep in
Who’d think the sounds of cello
Could come from a little chin.

Oh! What a wonderful mix
Of music from the earth
No amount of money
Could pay me what it’s worth.

Although I can’t control it
By pointing with my hand,
I’ll listen to the music
Made by nature’s band.

©Lynnette Schuepbach, April 4, 1994