Email Poem

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Poem

Blackbird singing in a redbud tree,
Why such a sad and mournful ditty?
I like your song, but, oh, tell me
Is it meant to please or pity?

Little brook babbling to a willow tree
Of where he's been and where he's bound for.
He tells his tales so joyfully,
But willow's he can't stick around for.

When romance dies what's left of love?
A heart that's filled with pain and sorrow.
And all that lingering ache will prove,
Love's here today and gone tomorrow.

Bird moves on to another tree,
Willow bids the brook good-by now.
Does misery crave company,
Or shall I sit alone and cry now?

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