The eager new house owner,
And their freshly appointed landscaper,
Both unanimously agreed,
And so the former decreed,
That the lonesome tree,
In the centre of the garden,
Should be replaced,
By a magnificent fountain,
Serving as a birdbath,
For the scores, no, hundreds,
Of chirruping little birds,
Flitting amongst the bushes.

When the tree came down,
Not with a thud, for it was removed,
Almost piecemeal, a branch at a time,
There was rustling, and some chirruping,
But mostly, there was silence.

The fountain now stands,
Majestically in the centre,
Of a verdant, brightly hued garden,
And the water gurgles, ripples and tumbles,
But there are no birds anywhere to be seen.