WHEN ORCHARDS BLOOM 



" The robin and the bluebird piping loud, 

 Filled all the blossoming orchards with their 



glee; 

 The sparrows chirped as if they still were 



proud 

 Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned 



be." 



The Birds of Killingivorth. 



After a week of showers, the lightly 

 veiled sun glows potent and compel- 

 ling. The cloud drift blows from the 

 west, the green meadow mist lifts, 

 revealing a greener mist of tender 

 leaves. An oriole, breaking into song, 

 queries: "Will you? Will you really, 

 really, truly?" and a meadow lark 

 answers: "Spring o' the year; spring 

 o' the year." 



15 



