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MY BIRD
Folder:
COUNTRY POEMS
Have you heard the word?
There is the beat on the street.
The beat on the street is getting more heat.
The news is as a real treat.
It is really neat.
My bird is coming home.
I will never be alone.
No longer will we need to talk on the phone.
Where she is,
the weather, is getting too cold.
She has decided to fold.
My bird is coming home.
The story is told.
I love her more than I do gold.
Yes, it is true.
She'll fly through that sky of blue.
If you look, maybe you can see her with your eye.
Better than reading a book.
Oh, my bird is coming home.
Yeah, my bird is coming home.
