So Sings the Morningbird

At the instant I saw it

Stood a bird on a branch

White breast, black coat, orange vested

Aristocratic its stance

Priggish beak up, looking onward

A weighty sigh it breathed out

I looked toward the morningbird

With swift unease and lofty doubt

Doubt step I took to it

And another with unease,

"What is it morningbird? What song shall you sing for me?"

A regal breath it took in

With pompous twitch, it did

With a flutter in its chest it said,

"What you once had with her is now and from here, ever dead."

"Oh what has become of my Love?" I asked with worry. "Has she fled like you have flown? To the night has my darling gone, from where your song was born?"

Flutter, "Yes, gone is your lover."

Ache, "So true, my Love, she sleeps?"

"No not the buried rest," bird sighed, "'tis only her heart, for you, that no longer beats."

I grieved upon this knowing

My own beat, a stutter in its tune

What I once contentedly knew

Fell over the hill with the moon

And from the night the morningbird came

And knew how she once cared

The bird it sang with violent grace,

"She has forgotten what you two once shared."

The bird flew at the instant I saw it

It was quiet and sang no song

But upon the sight of morningbird, I knew

My Love, she was long gone