My deep love for the Purple Martins are reflected in this poem I write about them last year. It is mainly about the return of the first male in the spring and that moment is so special in every way once you know the Purple Martins well. Seeing his jet like form cross the late winter sky is simply magical and that jet like form pierces Old Man Winter's heart like a dagger and kills him for good. Enjoy this poem and may the King of the Sky end winter's grip soon smile...Mike

"The True Voice Of Spring"


by

Mike Brown

The Daffodils promise sunshine

The Robin's song just barely comes forth

Maple buds swell blood red

As the cold descends from the far frozen north

The Chorus Frogs creak lightly

Still waiting for the good news

The cold silences the Mockingbird

The Bluebird sings the blues

Winter has been so long

The land still dead and brown

The Cardinal starts a loud cheer

But then he turns it right back down

When all of a sudden a Mighty Voice

Exclaims like a trumpet upon High!!

Chur,Chur,Chur Cheer..weeee

Listen.. The Great Messenger..Oh He has finally arrived!

A God among birds

He commands the icy wind to shift

The land warms in his wake

As he dives,zooms and drifts!!

Painting the cloudy sky blue

Like a great artist on the wing

He ends all suffering below

For He is "The True Voice of Spring!!!!!"

Bluesman 2008