No “Waltzing Matilda” Here

No prompts this morning, rather a poem quickly composed, the rhyme totally offbeat, written purely for fun.

Wrong Song 

I’m visiting the house out back,
getting rid of excess fluids,
when a bird beyond the quarter moon
is objecting to my foreign tune,
letting me know in strident cheeps
"Waltzing Matilda’s pretty iffy,
for a Canadian backwoods biffy!"

I make a quick direction change,
trying “Home, home on the range”
and he attempts to follow along
but clearly doesn’t know that song.
So I mute myself and other birds
become an exuberant chorus strong.

If you’re a singer, here’s the thing
when you have a critical audience:
respectfully join the tunes they sing
and let them set the cadence.

Image from Shutterstock.
Used as the cover of my book, Silver Morning Song

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