Spring fauna

The spring sun now shines all the way down.

I can feel it on my brown arm and my frown.

The night is losing its endless fight,

Time spent awake no longer too tight.

Especially because of the local fauna,

Going crazy in the morning like Madonna.

Screeching and chirping at 5 am,

It’s not like I never want to hear them,

But, as you know, sleep is nice,

And 5-ish hours do not suffice.

So, any birds reading this right now,

Mating calls only after nine would be wow.


Why shouldn’t I?

I saw a girl who was spinning and spinning,

While she did this, she was grinning.

I asked her why she did spinnify.

She said “The world is spinning, why shouldn’t I?”

A week from that I saw her flying,

From up above, she saw me spying.

I asked her why she’s high in the sky,

She said “The birds are flying, why shouldn’t I?

One summer night I saw her dancing,

Just like always I did some advancing.

I asked her if she wanted to fry,

She said “The notes are dancing, why shouldn’t I?”

The very next day I saw her swaying,

She did this wholly with an air of playing.

I asked her if she had something in her eye,

She said “The trees are swaying, why shouldn’t I?

When fall came I saw her existing,

As I tend to, I kept insisting:

I asked her the reason why,

She said “Everything just is, why shouldn’t I?”

When winter came I saw her no more,

She wasn’t there to ask questions, or,

Try to be clever and doubtlessly fail,

I’ve never heard the end of her tale.