Bird.

A little bird sat on a bough
singing out its joy,
such a lovely group of notes
it sweetly did employ.
I watched it high up on the tree
sitting in the sun
enjoying life this Summer's day,
just singing, having fun.

I envy that small feathered soul
its freedom to fly high.
I wish that I'd been born with wings
to soar up in the sky.
Such elation it must feel
with wind beneath its wings
No wonder that it sits upon
its branch and sweetly sings.