Down in the hollow where the wildflowers grow,
near a tiny stream where the water flows slow,
on a branch up high in an old apple tree,
sits a proud whippoorwill and a little chickadee.
A busy woodpecker in his dogwood tree
whistles to his neighbors sitting happy as can be,
then he goes back to work in the tree where he sat,
Rat a tat!
Rat a tat!
Tat! Tat! Tat!
The buttercups yearn to be kissed by the bees,
as the long green grasses, dance gaily in the breeze
while a love song rises from a muddy frog pit
and echoes through the forest
In a sweet clover patch not too far from here,
bunny rabbits munch near the white-tailed deer
as a mother duck leads her waddling pack,
to the clear blue stream with a
Later that day when the sun falls low,
an orchestra of crickets play a symphony below
while a single star shimmers, in the velvety night
and the forest is aglow with firefly light.
When the woodland creatures settle down to sleep
and the nighttime wanderers begin to creep,
The fruit bats awaken and the raccoon does too,
while the great owl calls out,
Who are you?
[This message has been edited by Debbie (edited 06-16-2000).]