Done ... (Three)

MY MANDOLIN SINGS

Like a thrush on the heather,
My mandolin sings --
Dancing like a tiny feather,
The joy that it brings!
If times be weighed by weather,
I'm lonely or sad --
Wherever my heart's tether,
My mandolin sings.

Her strings beneath my fingers,
How happy our days!
Her high note chirping lingers
In air as she plays.
Deeply as a kitten purrs,
Her low notes uncurl.
Whatever part she prefers,
How happy our days.

Brooks babblin', pine limbs swirlin',
The mandolin sings.
Tails twitchin', wings unfurlin',
As nature, it springs!
Whenever mercy's fallin',
By day or by night,
I grant my heart her callin' --
The mandolin sings.

Creative Commons License 2012 William Mark Gabriel. (Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License)