While at my desk, I heard a song
Through open window morning long
A bird in yellow brightly worn
A tweet and twitter lost and forlorn
In that wistful song I heard
A forgotten place that once felt near
A place in time, and thought, and space
Like nostalgia brought from a lost childhood taste
So I wrote, painted, sang,
Joined by friends who did the same
Our muse was this song of old
A…