Songbird
Dear little songbird,
With your beak of gold;
Wearing untidy feathers,
Sing a song sweetly told.
The wings of my songbird,
Seek blue fields above;
Where my feathered songster,
Serenades his love.
With wings opened wide,
He soars in the skies;
His darting and swooping,
Gives delight to my eyes.
He sings in the twilight,
Where my soul comes to be;
Joining the fireflies,
High up in the tree.
Dear little songbird,
Sing your hymn in the blue;
For I have no wings,
To fly with you.
Copyright © Elizabeth Wesley | Year Posted 2011
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