The Woodlark’s Song (Poem)

Where did he go, where should he be?

I do not know and neither does he.

Why I saw him in the garden just a quarter past 2:00!

Well what was he doing in the garden with you?

Why he sang me a sonnet, a lovable tune.

Head over heals my heart would swoon.

But you know he can’t be yours, nor I’s, nor anyone else’s!

Oh how I long to hear his song, and feel my worries melted.

But the Woodlark was a bird and in the wild he must stay,

when in need of relief then in the garden he will play-

a song like none ever heard before.

A song now lost to myth and lore.

There may come a day when the Woodlark returns,

for if there is to be a person who so greatly yearns-

to hear the songbird’s tale of love so true,

and to cure the ache that keeps their heart so blue.

Credits for image of painting:

Antique Chromolithograph Published 1907-08, London for “Birds of Great Britain and Ireland…” by Arthur G. Butler. Illustrated by H. Gronvold & F. W. Frohawk. 

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