Thursday 27 May 2010

You were only waiting for an angel from above

The sun was out and so were we.
The conversation meandered past my ears.
Amidst the children's shouts arose another sound.
Gradually we stopped and listened.
As we silenced, he crescendo-ed.
We sought him out and his voice drew the eye.

Perched on the conifer top.
Basking his bright beak in the sun.
He sang from the depth of his tiny body.
Performing his aria for our audience.
His voice leapt from his yellow beak
and took flight towards our ears.

It soared and dropped
And twisted fro and to.
Encompassing his passion and joy.
He knew every note on every stave.
He shared them all with us.
We were in awe. It was beautiful.

The next day the black flutter caught my eye.
I went to see what I thought I knew.
He lay quiet and still in the road.
Eyes open yet opaque, beak bright but closed.
It may have been the loss of a friend
but I cried for the little soul.

Now that his song had gone.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Beautiful, and a tear jerker. You have an amazing gift for writing. It was wonderful to hear the bird and to see how that beauty was transfered into your words. Fantastic xxxx

Ros said...

Thanks love.

It did happen that way too, I'm not making the sad part up. I did find the wee bird in the road. I thought initially he was still alive but no, unfortunately. Poor thing.