This lady was my mockingbird,
Her voice a song of skies,
She sang to me with whispers soft,
And brought my heart to rise.
Her hair, like threads of golden light,
It danced upon the breeze,
Each breath she took, a sultry wind
That set my soul at ease.
She was the bird, and I the branch
That bent beneath her weight,
Her beauty made my heart take flight,
So blinded by its fate.
She sang her songs of distant lands,
And living by the sea,
And every note entwined my heart,
It twas too late to flee.
Yet as she flew, she left me still,
The music turned to dust,
this lady was the mockingbird
Whose heart I dared to trust.
She strung me on with honeyed words,
Till silence filled the air,
I heard the beckoning of her song,
But when I came she wasn\'t there.
Now broken by her flight, I stand,
Her door is shut and locked.
This mocking bird once sang for me,
Count me now among the mocked.
JD Boye