Oh come bird and sing upon the Willow tree, a note of your little hearts well being. To a host of wild flowers, in colors of a rainbow queen! Walk on the soft green grass, for joy in heart it will bring,
clouds waltz across the sky, bees dance on pollen trees, while you sing your birds song, of your little hearts well being.
Sunset will caste its glow upon the face of earth. The milkmaid will dance her cans through meadow land, sing your bird song of little heart well being.
Spread your wings and fly up to the golden sky, the song of your joyful heart. In the twilight hour be heard, The song of the bird be praised, from the lips of a silent listener.
Walking in mental fog, you become a swaying tree. In mistiness one becomes lonely like a blackbird. Hollyhocks would wait, till the sun comes out. December rain brings the gift― of sleet on lips. ————————————– Walking in mental fog, you