Hear a tale of heartache, of a meadow of sorrow,
as a bluebird’s song is heard both haunting and sweet,
beneath a black pine tree, in the orange light of morrow,
echoes the lament of a young girl’s heart in defeat.

Witness a love that time couldn’t sustain,
like bereft bitter strawberries in a frost-bitten field
amidst the orchard, there sits a sculpture of pain,
a love once vibrant, now lost like a love unrevealed

See her as she stands on the rooftop shingled blue,
She sees the bronze boy, a statue in the morning sun,
The orange light shifts and shades the field in a solemn hue,
Her tears are only mirrored by the rivers that run,

beneath the black pine, where the shadows are cast,
bitter strawberries weep for her, marked by morning dew,
here the memory lives of a love that couldn’t last,
and from the rooftop, her silent cry to the sky flew.

The bluebird’s melody sings for her a mournful refrain,
of a love’s demise beneath the morn’s desolate chill.
A ballad of heartache, etched in stone, etched in pain.
The bronze boy stands alone and frozen by fate’s will,

capturing the essence of a young love’s paradigm-
bereft bitter strawberries in the orchard’s embrace,
as the bluebird sings the ballad of a love lost to time,
of the sweetness turned sour by destiny’s cruel face.

A song of sorrow the scene sings, bitter and true,
in the breaking shadows of day where memories stay
among the black pine, under skies just before they turn blue.
she buries her young love in the dawns of yesterday.