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.