You fluttered your tiny self through

my garden window,

chirping your singsong tune merrily.

Each morning you sat by that

same window,

your sweet tunes my first music of the day.

All day long I waited for the next

morning,

just to hear your sweet notes.

Yet one day i awoke to silence.

Rushing to the window it was cold,

without your cheery self to brighten it.

The same way you brightened my

each day.

No more music was to be heard,

as the morning wizzed by.

You had flown away,

to a place unknown.

A place I could not follow.

So I sit by that same widow

each day,

to sing the notes you sang.

'*** it didn't matter that you left,

what mattered was that  you stayed.

even if just for the shortest period of time.

And it is that I remember and sing of

each day.