Love Poem: Bye Bye Birdie

Bye Bye Birdie

It was late in the perpetual summer, and I had been dozing,
On a blue and balmy afternoon, as I lulled on my porch swing.

When from my pleasurable dreams, I was eventually aroused,
By sweet breezes that blew past, the place where I drowsed.

With a sigh of contentment, I enjoyed the charming scenery,
Of sun drenched butterflies, going by the blooms and greenery.

Such clusters of bright flowers, left their mark upon the day,
By gladdening the wide eyes, of any person who came our way!

The limitless blue sky above, had divers puffy lemony clouds,
Drifting away very lazily, far removed from the busy crowds.

I went inside to get a sandwich, along with an ice cold drink, 
With a big slice of apple pie, and I had returned in a blink.

I had finished my sandwich, when a purple bird caught my eye,
It looked quite beautiful, as it circled and just flew on by.

Then back it flew to my shade tree, singing all the way along,
And lastly it flew to my porch rail, and sat as if it belonged.

I only looked away but moments, for I was diverted by a sound,
But I soon saw the bird with my pie, flying away on the rebound!

I went into the fieriest rage, and I shook my fist at the air,
For that pie was the last piece, and it took the larger share!

"Oh, how I wish, I wish I could fly," very fervently I whispered.
"Then I could catch up with you," to see where you've disappeared.

At that precise moment I saw, a shooting star with its contrail,
Like the golden noonday memory, of midnight's song of nightingale.

Just then I felt my body changing, 'til I was also a bird with wings,
And much reduced in size, with lovely violet plumes of all things.

There was no sense in pouting, when my biggest dream had come true,
So with a running leap I was airborne, and soon golden skies I knew!

I felt the strangest sensation, at the distant views of my house,
From the restless puffy cloud regions, of the baby blue penthouse.

I went on a glad sightseeing tour, of my favorite scenic places,
Such as the canyons and my local park, and gave to each fond gazes.

The vision from way on high, was quite different from the one below,
And singing all the way along, I flew 'til dusky skies turned indigo.

Later I feasted upon berries, and dreamt the night away in a tree,
As the moon softly whispered of magic, as warm breezes caressed me.

Next day I awoke to sheer delight, and my lovely treehouse of green,
With a sweet mystic song in my heart, of the raptures I had seen! 

After a breakfast of sunflower seeds, I lunched upon more berries,
And flew among my favorite gardens, until my dinner of strawberries.

As the cinnamon days drifted by, I was happy but I did feel alone,
Until the day I saw a violet flock, and felt that I'd come home.

As I joined the joyous gathering, they sang to me their greeting,
And the mulberries were sun ripened, so we all continued eating.

Like the return of the prodigal child, to the place sweet memory lurks,
Or the annual summertime festivals, that always end in gay fireworks!

I often wondered if the pie thief, was perhaps among these friends,
But the natural way of the world, is having mysteries without end.

Now I understood as I never did before, that one small transgression,
Which was borne no more of evil, than it was borne of aggression.

So evening found the purple flock, airborne against violet skies,
In search of a nighttime resting place, and another pink sunrise!

In the following days and weeks, we toured the gay city end to end,
Until unerring instinct nudged us, for autumn was around the bend!

And soon we took to the amber skies, in timeless ritual formation,
Like the winking stars themselves, ever reporting to their station.

No vacation before or since, compares to that matchless journey,
Of indescribable beauty, of orange dawns and moonlight mystery!

As the scenery grew lushly greener, we saw summer somehow returning,
And the breezes had become balmy, for the ruddy sun was burning.

I saw countless glorious sunsets, which defied every description,
And like the song of nightingale, was beautiful eventide depiction.

In the dulcet forests of the south, old friends were soon greeted,
And we sang our love one to another, a ritual quite often repeated.

With our seasonable companions, we frolicked in the trees and sky,
And shared green meadows with macaws, along with blue dragonflies.

We basked in the warm mellow sunshine, of our beloved summer home,
Until my heart began calling me backwards, asking why I had roamed!

For it was verdant springtime, in the region I'd left months ago,
And if I were never to return to it, my heart would surely know.

So, I and my dear companions, once more took to the sapphire skies,
In search of the golden sunshine, and another northern moonrise!