My tiny Songbird

You have no seasons
Rests on a twig
Of a leafless tree!
And no hurry to search your food,
Like me.
Ripen fruits on other trees
But purposely you idle here
That I have noticed.
We're like outsiders?
I have some lyrics
That nobody knows
And Winter comes
I too have no roost,
Will sing together hiding somewhere
In the Christmas night!
The stagnant Mountains would listen
And it echoes in the haunted Valley.
The Churchgoers may stop at the Churchyard
And I am sure that they join us for the chorus!

*It's a great thing to do little things well! -Unknown

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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