Chickadee

Out on a limb sits a chickadee’s form,

That chickadee which sings it’s sweet song.

Near it’s mother’s nest where it was born,

And in the cascading landscape, it’s voice strong.

Come join me next spring, to see the new birds,

Flitting to and fro, stretching their new wings,

Singing their melodies, coming out in herds,

We will sit and chat about life’s blessings.

Their voices combining, they’ll make a tune.

A tune as pretty as the angel’s harp,

We’ll sit in peace, so as not to ruin,

The song when in mind, time seems to warp.

The sunset behind the willow tree burns,

Each bird flies into it, taking their turns.

Reviews

[freelancejouster]

this is really pretty, with rhymes and slant rhymes galore. beautiful form :)

[Greg Skura]

A sweet tribute to a sweet bird! Nicely done!