I am born in the spring, grow tall in the sun, But my life comes to an end when the summer is done. They cut me and gather me, heavy and gold, To feast on my riches before it gets cold.

Sometimes feared and sometimes loved You also have seen me on TV Nobody wants me in his house But can lend an 'ear' to science

Glass roof opens wide, Day's bright eye, a window high, Stars peek softly through.

I stand in straight, obedient lines, Beneath the summer sun's designs. In spring, I wear a coat of white, A sweet and blossoming delight.

My feathers mirror moonless skies, yet clever thoughts fill watchful eyes. I speak in calls and borrowed sound, wherever forest paths are found.