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Story Poem, Nr.08 — The Painted Bird

The painted bird sat on the ledge  
the painted lady on the edge -  
of life the bird and lady knew  
one has to wait, life comes to you ...  
 
Then sitting on her shoulder  
the bird so sweetly sings  
and drops into her trembling hand  
a solid golden ring  
  
she weeps with joy and laughter  
the bird flies up to cry  
"Oh come with me dear lady  
fly with me in the sky”  
   
she puts the ring on finger  
and fiddles it around  
then flies up high to meet the bird  
some way above the ground  
   
she asks the bird completely  
“whence came the magic ring?”  
“I am the Painted Bird” says he  
“and magic is my thing”.  
Written by Josh (Joshua Bond)
Published | Edited 8th Mar 2024
Author's Note
Comp entry for "Elemental Euphoria', hosted by AEMelia564.
(Elemental contrast: gravity & levitation).

(photo credit: hans-van-tol-P1syptb0tTw-unsplash)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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