... or, (.>
oo
Sing pigeons sing as the sun starts to rise . .
perching in Father Lime, close to the skies . .
watching the world wake with golden-rimmed eyes . .
sing pigeons sing thy sweet tune . . . . .
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . .
oo
Sing pigeons sing as the sun courses high . .
rounding Far Oak and her limbs swept awry . .
sailing on silver wings shimmering by . .
sing pigeons sing thy sweet tune . . . . .
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . .
oo
Sing pigeons sing as the sun sets to night . .
roosting in Horse Chestnut, bathed in rose light . .
settling by candle bronze, soon to bloom white . .
sing pigeons sing thy sweet tune . . . . .
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . oo
oo . . oo . . oo-oo . . . .
oo
* * *
Ah, Spring <(:-)
During the next fortnight, I hope to compose a tune for my
‘Spring Song’, a poem written last year (http://happenstancepoetry.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/spring-song.html).
By way of interlude, I’ve composed this rather foolish sort of ditty, inspired
by the beautiful tones of the wood pigeons in residence around Poet’s Nest, as
I like to term my abode.
Since my youth, the call of wood pigeons has been my
favourite of all birdsongs – though the soft coo of doves comes a very close
second. So imagine my joy, as I sat checking references in a splendid scholarly
tome one afternoon, in hearing a solitary wood pigeon calling from the garden
and realising that – huzzah! – the rhythm of the call fits neatly into a waltzer piece.
Thus the ditty, ~ - - ~ - - ~ - - ~ - -, with each ‘.’ after
a word or ‘oo’ indicating that the same should be sustained to the end of the
line. I have a tune in mind for the verses, to be played sotto voce
throughout the chorus. As the chorus is faithful to Opus pigeon, the last ‘oo’
is abrupt, though the verse tune continues until the final beat.
<(:-)
