A little bird told me
Whilst it was sitting by me
Maybe you won't believe me
Even so, surprisingly
I was very moved by it
Just by what it told me
It was a little bird story
Which was worth listening?
Yet this bird wasn't a parrot
Though it was just like a parrot
Perhaps from the same family
As it was so glorious to look at
Feathers of beauty, it had got all
That bird, it was a blessing to see
With all of its wonderful glee
Yes, but what was the story
Which it had told you
The story which it told me
Was nothing less than a myth
It was fine and took time
Even to tell it well
Then bear a while with me
I promise I'll get to it
As soon as I gather my wits
Hush, I can't tell it in a rush
Why, it s just too much
It's hard to tell it, rushing
You made it slipped away
But, wait it won't stay
For it's not one to stray
No, not that little bird
So whilst we wait
This is the little story
Told, by the bird in its glory
So surprisingly, to me
It said, the month is September
Soon comes the winter
It has to pack and go
To where the weather is hot
For parrots like birds to live
That's the story
Which it had told to me
Then it flew away
Just like a stray
But it will come again
When the winter's ends
I know it won't stay
This bird with its story
One could rightly say
It's just a moving myth
Yes, the whole thing is
Who wants to believe
This soft poetic story
It is a moving myth
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Little bird's saying is so surprising. Feathers of beauty come as blessings. Nice imagery is drawn in this poem very interestingly. Soft poetic story is definitely a moving myth. Nicely penned poem this is.10
Glorious to look at! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice story nice poem sir. yes.. live moving, and die moving.