The Jingles In My Brain

Out of writing verse so few have made a fortune
And many see it as a waste of time
And what mother now would wish her son to be born with
The once great gift the gift of writing rhyme.

Yet in my soul the rhymes are ever stirring
And the jingles keep on jingling in my brain
And believe me i'd not be penning verses
If i were hell bent on financial gain.

On windblown gum i see the white backed magpie
And i am in the mood for rhyme again
His feathers drenched and yet he pipes so sweetly
Why do birds always whistle in the rain?.

To write of birds and beasts and natural things to many
Seems such a waste of precious energy
And such effort do not put bread on your table
Of what i know of they keep telling me.

It's sad so sad to think that many people
See Nature as an unimportant thing
They clear the wood of trees for to build factories
And man made noise where songbirds once did sing.

Human society revolves around greed and money
And many of the most successful people of today
Are those who have defaced the natural landscape
And they'd clear more land if they had their own way.

I know yes i know that this paper that i write on
Not long ago part of a beautiful tree
And i too have cut down trees far too many
And the hypocrisy of mankind too in me.

The jingles in my brain just keep on jingling
And i've been trying to find my soul in rhyme
And i'll continue piecing rhymes together
Though many see that as a waste of time.