BIRDSONG

Sitting at my desk I sometimes hear
Birds singing up and down the street;
And though I haven’t got a clue
What they sing of or why they do,
If I stop to listen I can believe
What I know isn’t really true,
That because they think it wrong
To sit in silence without a song,
They are singing somewhere near me
Just to cheer me, whom they see
Sitting silent far too long.
And if, as I sometimes do,
I happen then to think of you
How very glad I would be
If you too were somewhere near,
If all day long I could hear
Your voice in talk and song –
Even though I haven’t got a clue
What you talk of or why you do.