Michael P. Johnson

Gold Star - 7,370 Points (7th Nov.1943 / New Silksworth / Sunderland Co/Durham England)

My Little Friend And I - Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Why aren’t you flying little bird?
What in the world is wrong?
I so recall when first I heard
The sweetest little song

Is that the saddest face I see?
Is that a broken wing?
Oh my goodness could it well be
Through pain, you cannot sing

Most every day I hear you
At the break of first light
Sweet and fresh as the morning dew
Until you sleep at night

What has happened, my little friend?
Why such a closed tight beak?
Sprightly you’d come when at days end
Or when you heard me speak

So beautiful, God has made you
So tiny yet so swift
Every time you come in view
You give me such a lift

I thank The Lord, my friend you’re there
Hopping from tile to tile
Such special moments we both share
When chirping, brings a smile

Is it time, is it growing cold?
Is it close for you to part
Or could it be, you’ve grown so old
You feel it in your heart

The Lord God’s made you birds so wise
Knowing when times are right
The time to fly to Paradise
Or just to say good night.....

Topic(s) of this poem: christian


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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 27, 2015



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