The Crickets Are Singing

You tell me of heaven you tell me of hell
And you tell me that I only pen doggerel
In your eyes I'm one who is not meant to win
The crickets are singing as night closes in.

Though with some justification my ability you doubt
Here's something else for me to scribble about
The crickets are singing how sweetly they sing
The wonders of Nature is such a magical thing.

The crickets are singing as darkness cloaks the sky
A thing of great beauty my heart beats with joy
So little of Nature's ways I seem to know
But my great love of her it only seems to grow.

You talk loudly at me but I don't heed your voice
At the songs of the crickets I only rejoice
On a beautiful evening in the early Fall
The crickets are singing by the garden wall.

Perhaps their singing may be their mating call
The dark and elusive crickets so lively and small
You talk loudly at me as to me you stand near
But the songs of the crickets are all I can hear.

You grow angry with me and at me you yell
And you call me a waster and a loser as well
But you well may grow hoarse as you scream at me dear
For the songs of the crickets are all I wish to hear.