The Herald’s tune, to hail the dawn
A triumph yet to ascertain
A song he plays of light, yet drawn
Of solidarity and pain

Pipes of reeds, o’er marshlands plays
The plains, they thud with silent drum
A Fiddle’s twang do catch the rays
Through sunlights’ beams, a silent strum

Sullen notes on gusting lips
Cascading swells, the bird song’s rush
To greet the day before it slips
Into song’s by nightingale or thrush

Ensnared in songs, enraptured hence
The beasts that roam do share their calls
And beseech the Herald to commence
The coming day through woodland halls

Pines and oak do creak and bend
The Herald’s tune they seek as well
To wash through branch, their bark to mend
In the languish of the music’s spell

A song to bring the morning forth
To chase the fears of Night in wonder
But The Herald’s melody finds worth
In those who’s heart are split asunder

It binds the wounds of waifs and strays
And to the lost, a guiding token
So heed The Herald’s tune in ways
That heals your heart when it is broken

By the robin’s breast, and vibrant dove
Remember, friend, that you are loved