Swamp Symphony of Georgia

My thoughts run back to South Georgia land,

Where Seminole Natives lived in every band.

The Okefenokee swamp and of its own spell.

"Land of the Trembling Earth", I know so well.

By day, moves in slow motion, quiet as can be,

Swamp life there each one so rare, all may see.

Big birds all to stand at attention, seem to stare,

As wild ducks swim mischiefly, appear unaware.

Big fish feed on minnows then, snakes are still,

Muskrats and beavers work so hard, jobs to fill.

Black bear and cats find their beds, time to rest,

Wild deer seek shelter after a feed, at their best.

Bull frogs, critters in swamp waters then to pause,

Enjoy a warming refrain of sun's light, as a cause.

Horned owls, hawks and eagles rest in their perch,

Have scoured swamp's terrain, each nook to search.

As each evening draws to its close, night time comes,

Frogs, crickets, stoic birds, all sing, their music drums.

The smell of Jasmine, Honeysuckle's scents fill the air,

Swamp critters begin to stir, grow hungrier, of each pair.

The stealthy alligator is on the move, its food to search,

Feathered kings of the swamp, then to leave the perch.

Bald Eagles, night hawks, in flight, on its guard, the owl.

As ferocious cats, Black bears, all then are on the prowl.

A grand musical of sounds, shrill calls, growls, as words,

Sharp repetitive chants, the percussion of the night birds,

At times all in conjunction, as a fine symphony, the whole,

Then just as suddenly, a mixed cacophony, to then unfold.

As the morning sun appears over a distant horizon, to rise,

Participants of the nightly war's wild song, its wrath, denies.

Returning once more, to their own sanctuary, as their desire,

Swamp creatures, in their own jungle, of sorts, all now retire,

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