A Little Blue Bird

I walked the old path

The same old roads.

There, from a tall tree, I heard,

The chirping, of a little bluebird.

It sat high upon a branch

And stared down at me.

Then chirped and chirped again

As though; it knew of all my pain.

The nest wasn't new

It had been left, with just memories.

Dry and weak, almost about to part.

All it needed; was a warm cozy heart.

The abode did remind me

Of my home long ago.

Of playing in the grass

And climbing every tree.

To stretch out my arms and run, wild and free.

I walked on slowly,

Reminiscing in my thoughts.

The bluebird too

Knew that I had to part.

But I could still hear it chirp,

Deep within my heart