Perched upon a tree in sway
The sky was turning evening grey
As it turned day
In the silent hush
I heard a little song thrush
Singing his flute like song
His music filled the air
Without a care
Red berries there
Beneath the unseen sun
He sang out loud
He sang out proud
He seemed to sing for fun
When suddenly from another tree
Another tune tranquillity
As I leaned upon the old rusty Iron Gate
He flew off to join his mate
Although the song bird did depart
His song still dwells within my heart.
(Meaningful one by A. Turner)
