Twenty-Four Seven Love Songs

            There is now no shortage of the melodious and resounding chirpings and tweetings filling the midnight air and rounding out our senses. Whether by day or by night it is a rather quizzical site; the ears alert to a new nighttime delight. Seems tweeting is not just for daytime measure, but the birds have found that they too must meet up to the new pastime pleasure.

            All the beautiful songbirds flitting and flying, taking up branches and singing their songs, alerting the world to wake up and get on; these songbirds of light now continue long into the night, mimicking us humans, keeping tweeting a flight.

            There is no rest for the weary, no quiet dispense; as mankind keeps tweeting, all the pretty birds answer back. The air is thick with tension and stress, their little brains on constant alert; they never get a chance to take a rest, to sit for a spell, put their beaks to their chest. Oh, they would love to take a snooze, catch some Z’s and quiet their minds, but mankind himself is competing now, you see, from high on a hill and low in the valley. This constant tweeting sending shivers up their spines, disturbing the birdies timely rhythms and causing a flutter now deep into night, he screeches and twerps, chatters and crows, he preaches to the choir but no one knows. We are deaf to the sounds of the birds’ latest cries; to turn down the music and shut off all the noise, take a break for one minute and give the world some relief, allow the sweet little creatures to get some peace.

            Their little alarm clocks silenced, never to sleep again, they are on twenty-four seven, they now resemble mankind.