As the sun rises at dawn,
Birds sing sweetly in the trees.
If their notes somehow were seen,
I'd whistle their melodies.

There's a sunrise peachy keen,
Red and pink are there also,
Making the clouds beautiful,
As winds keep them on the go.


The apple trees are in full bloom.
They're a gorgeous sight to see.
As the winds make their way through,
From trees many petals flee.

The petals are seen waltzing,
As they whirl about the air.
The ground with white they carpet.
It's a sight of beauty rare.