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MY CANARY
I had a sweet yellow canary,
who'd cheerful whistle all day long.
A tuneful happy little bird,
singing to me the sweetest song.

I named him after the great singer
Caruso; for the talent that he had.
His aria's like the tenor, 
Were bright, not mournful dull or sad.

His home was a roomy cage,
With a ladder, perch and bell.
Contented with his lot in life,
while singing his tunes so well.

Caruso would like to go outside 
having a day to sing in the sun.
Enjoyed the warmth and fresh air,
Back inside when day was done.

Although he was only young,
he died at an early age,
one day I was upset to find him
lying dead within his cage.

I'd forgot to bring him inside,
he caught cold, and to my shame
dying through my carelessness,
and I was entirely to blame.

I'd like to think of my canary,
Continues singing his sweet songs,
joining in some heavenly chorus,
happy where he now belongs.

Maybe he will meet his namesake,
they could sing duets together,
In a place where there's no night,
and it's always perfect weather.

Copyright © Vivien Wade March 2014

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