A Little Bird Told Me

it reads:
I read it one day, appearing
Upon my glowing box
It was hardly to be endearing
In fact it was a pox;

'A little bird just told me'...
They were all a-twitter with
Any one may scold me
For lack of wit and pith;

But once when I was sitting
(Trying to concentrate)
There was a note someone was hitting
Their pitch in fact was great;

It was warbling a sonata
This bird upon my deck
The unusual cantata
Had me craning about my neck

Perched as I was that moment
Upon a high, hard stool
I was intensely silent
It was hard to keep my cool!

All have heard birds singing
About the trees and brush
And has known them bringing
In the dawn and dusk;

An unusual song, believe it
My ears thought it quite unique
I saw no one to receive it
As it passed to air from beak!

But it held a secret speaking
Unknown to the ears
Of the heart's true breaking
Of his traceless years;

Beauty held in common things
Surprises in the dirt
The thrill of having working wings
The danger of being hurt;

The place we were received it
Like a poured out cup;
As soon as I believed it
The bird was flitting up.

Even as its song was small
It had me standing long
For though it had given all
It still was full of song.

The chirping, humming box that stands
And serves with eager grace
Even if one day it understands
Will never sing its days.
a postscript is here written:
a pass-word:
twitter little bird told me

1 comment:

  1. Dearest, what a beautiful poem! It makes me wish I had heard the sonata myself.


Messages left under the doormat will be promptly decoded and a response may be issued.