A bird by any other name would sound as "tweet"

Morning dark evanescent 

rising sun incandescent,

silence... still... iridescent.

Muted morning is broken

burbling bird names are spoken.

        

First, feathers flap and fluster

cacophonous clattering cluster.

And while beaks have a thirst,

call to warble comes first.

By din of a racket, the forest is rent

by singing and chattering bird ‘ta-lent’.

Birds themselves proudly proclaim

loudly shrieking their own name.

Tweeting pee-wee and pi-wit and feebee

Cheeping perky and chirpy like coffee

Trilling sweetly and tuney like toffee.

Ain’t it quite queer

in lands far and near

we name birds by ear:

as is heard here...

raucous kookaburra,

crazy cuckoo,

wailing kulbardi,

french-speaking vingt-huit,

kurrawong song

the Kiwi’s kiwi

and parroting kea.

Yet no bird will you hear

call ‘onomatopoeia’.

(Response to a challenge to write a piece including seven words -- highlighted in bold above).