The sounds of May, br Sunlight crescendos, br More eagerly birds frolic; br Even louder than days preceding. br br Bouquets of carnations, br Deep reds, pinks, whites; br Petal by petal aligned, br To patiently queued buyers. br br The taste of a toast, br Of sparkling wine from, br Vineyards vast and distant; br No harried haste to savor. br br Swirling strips, br Furls of hemlines, br A folk tradition ebbs; br The whirligig of paper confetti. br br More than twenty blackbirds, br Trip lightly through the grass, br Seeking out micro food; br Only a grackle's beak will tweak. br br Beginning May, May day; br Of yester years echoes, br In procession labour, br Silent wreaths adorn their struggle.