I watched him as he sat, high in the tree,
attending to his feathers and a polished beak.
It seemed he glanced, occasionally, at me,
as if he thought my future to be bleak.
Without an introduction he descended then,
and perched on a green stump, close to my bench.
We eyed each other to the count of nine (or ten) ,
he, feathered friend, and I, a dressed-up Mensch.
He spoke before he sang and said 'my human friend,
it is the heart that will decide, it must be strong,
so would you listen to my music to the end,
it's all for you and called The Melancholy Song.'
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/melancholy-song/
