Across a small open field south of the house there was an old orchard with big gnarled apple trees. I would sneak through the tall grass in the orchard, and hide and dream under the trees.
While he sang the beautiful melody,
A beetle added harmony.
A grasshopper fiddled and fiddled with glee,
Rubbing his legs enthusiastically.
They all sang high in the key of C,
With the bass notes hummed by a bumblebee.
They sang of Bonnie over the sea,
Of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.
They sang of life’s sweet mystery,
Of battles fought and victory.
They sang of the West that used to be,
With pulsing rhythm and poetry.
I close my eyes for the memory,
To relive that childhood reverie;
Of a wonderful springtime symphony,
And a boy in the grass ‘neath the apple tree.