Blue Bird

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  • Music

    Blue Bird

    Singing to me
    Is a blue bird

    With joy in its soul
    It sings all day
    It sings all night

    Such a beauty
    Such a noise
    Is a blue bird

    The size of my hand
    With the eyes of a hawk
    And a voice of harmony
    Is a blue bird

    For many years
    The singing goes on
    Having barely a pause
    Always a song

    Until the years end
    And the blue bird sings
    A song of goodbye
    And dies in a song

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    coteming’s Poems (12)

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