Lightning bugs lower,
The moon takes the stage.
Whirrings, then buzzings…
Crescendos that rage.
It cuts through the grasses
And rises on air;
A symphony of nature,
Ancient verses declared.
Then, sounds die down
Ever quiet, so still…
You wonder what's happened-
And then there's a trill!
It's starting all over,
The sounds are rising;
Ever so softly - always surprising!
They chirp through the night
'Til dawn comes creeping…
To find tired little musicians
Who now are sleeping.
