Mockingbird

On a warm summer morning,
Early in June,
High on a branch,
A bird sings his tune.

As dawn breaks the sky,
Turning pink and then blue,
The bird trills on,
As the day starts anew.

His simplistic song,
Is sung just for fun,
Or is he singing,
To greet the sun?

He sings on and on,
Never to cease,
As the sky breaks apart,
Piece by piece.

What is this bird,
So handsome and fine?
'Tis a mockingbird,
So sweet and divine.

Author's Note

I was searching through some piles of papers in my room the other day and I came across a few poems that I wrote some-odd years ago. This is one of them. :)

Reviews

[Mic]

I love the mockingbird... unless he's perched outside my window at night, intent on singing me awake! lol

Envy your command of the short verse. So hard to make the words bump each other along and still convey the message... and it rhymes!

Very well done.

[Katie Lynn]

Thank you!

[Mic]

You're most welcome.

[Bare trees]

Great job on this one. Love the rhymes and meter was excellent. I could feel the warmth and quiet of summer while the mockingbird sings his tune on a sunlit branch.