Pied – R.I.P. Poem by Scarborough Gypsy

Pied appeared one day late spring
With damaged crown, a gracious king,
Regal in the way he stood
White bib and pants, jet black hood
So proud in stature, eyes shone bright
And though his voice had taken flight
No other song is said to be
Superior than that of he
We did our best to help him mend
Fed tasty morsels to our friend
And one day when his trust we’d won
His voice returned and he sung
The beauty of his song was such
We cared not to listen much
To anything less than his sweet call
He sung to us and one and all
We grew accustomed to his ways
And hoped that in the summer haze
This little bird had found his place
But that it seems was not the case
Alas his melody stopped one day
And our dear Pied had flown away
And only now his ghost we hear
A haunting memory of one so dear.