My sister Betty, who lives in Newfoundland, has ordered a subscription of the Downhome Magazine for me (living in Wales, UK) and my sister Joan who lives in Michigan, USA. We have really enjoyed reading all the articles and thought your readers might like this poem our mother would recite when she was a little girl. Her name was Olive Squires.

Patsy van Aardt (nee Squires)

Little Bird, Little Bird, Stay with me
I have a clean cage all ready for thee
Many bright flowers I will bring to you
And sweet ripe cherries all wet with dew.

Thank thee little maiden for all your care,
But I dearly love the clear cool air,
My snug little nest in the old oak tree,
Is better than a golden cage for me.

Little Bird, Little Bird, where will you go,
When all the hills are buried with snow,
The ice will cover the old oak tree,
Little Bird, Little Bird, stay with me.

Na Little Maiden, away I will fly,
To the greener fields and warmer sky,
When Spring comes back with its cheerful rain,
My joyful song you will here again.   Submitted By: NULL