Begone My Precious

Joyous little bluebird

At my windowsill

Hoping and twittering.

I can’t but wonder

Where from you hail.

 

Do you journey

From the north?

Have you frolicked

In lush green meadows

Of summery east?

 

Isn’t it a wonder

That you choose to spend

Precious flickering hours

In this unappreciative

Haze of grey?

 

Why do you sing

In this sad, sad hell

With smoke and smog and dust

And unfriendly faces?

Begone bird.

 

You could go

To where mountains sigh

And rivers chatter

Where silver glass rains down.

To the kingdom where your melody belongs.

 

Begone my avian friend

To the happy place you come from

This nasty, dirty city

Is not a place

For your childish charm

.Image

Just a picture I found from a google search – not mine!

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