The Blue Bird

Prologue

 

To merely hear the blue bird sing

Or see it on the wing

Would prove some things can never be

Compared to anything.

 

It perches on its pleasant tree

Beside a rippling pond

Of darting fish, and merely looks

Within, about, beyond.

 

As seasons change, and years roll by,

It would most blissful be

When sojourning upon its perch

Amidst the greenery.

 

By Spring, ’twould toil about its tree,

And sing throughout the days.

By Summer, ’twould serenely lounge

Beneath the golden rays.

 

By Autumn, with a gloomy gaze,

’Twould in its hollow lie.

By Winter, while the flurries whirl,

’Twould dream about the sky.

 

This bird would seldom leave its home

To see the world beyond.

’Tis known to perch and known to roam

Nearby the rippling pond.

 

And in the ripples ev’ry day

’Twould clearly see a face

In features different, same in glow,

Perched on its tree with grace.

 

From day to night, from night to day,

The blue bird in that tree

Lives through my Muse, for both are bound

In solemn unity.

Part 1

 

The wind whooshed with a bitter sough,

 And wildly shook the trees

That strove to weather through the whirl

And ominous unease.

 

The blue bird shivered more and more

Amidst the growing chill,

While watching as the greenery

Turned red and gold at will.

 

While on a cottage windowsill

Some twenty feet away,

A watcher with a constant gaze

In solemn silence lay.

 

’Twas orange with the whitest stripes

That stretched from side to side,

But, though as lonely as the bird,

It never sang, it cried.

 

Through Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring,

It watched and only that.

From day to night it lay and lay,

That pained and lonesome cat.

 

He sobbed and whimpered, though he knew

That ’twas beyond absurd

To hear his heart with passion beat

But for the fair blue bird.

 

The blue bird shivered yet again�"

The wind was bitter still.

The cat looked on with reddened eyes

Upon that windowsill.

 

The cold increased, the bird arose,

And went inside her tree,

Where, singing, soon swayed all to sleep

In soft serenity.

 

She shimmered in the beaming rays,

He watched with ardent heart.

She looked at him, she smiled, she called�"

He woke up with a start!

 

Around, about, he cast his eyes

In frantic scrutiny,

And saw a blue bird wing its way

Towards his blue bird’s tree.

 

It landed with conceited grace,

She came back into view.

The cat’s heart sank and eyes seeped tears,

When both the blue birds flew.

 

O cat upon the windowsill,

Pray, be not one to mope.

Thy bird hath flown with someone else,

But thou shouldst not lose hope.

 

Part 2

The frost fogged up his windowpane,

And made it hard to see

The white and frozen land beyond,

And, worse, his blue bird’s tree.

 

The blue bird customarily

Would spend a Winter’s day

At ease and warm inside her tree�"

Now she has flown away.

 

Such had occurred few times before,

But never for so long,

Nor with another who had chanced

As well to hear her song.

 

Come Spring, cat, she would not for thee

Gleam brightly in the gleams.

Yet thou couldst still thy blue bird see

Within thy blue bird dreams.

 

Part 3

 

Although his windowpane was clear

By now, he could not care.

For though Spring had at last arrived,

His blue bird was not there.

 

He merely lay upon the sill

And waited silently

Day after doleful day for death

To end his misery.

 

A warbling cry then suddenly

Resounded all around.

The cat abruptly looked about

To see who made the sound.

 

’Tis she! ’Tis she! Thy bird is back,

Yet she is flying still.

She now hath passed her homely tree,

And heads towards thy sill.

 

 She neared and neared, and soon was there,

Then with a pit-a-pat,

She pecked three times upon the pane

To ease the rigid cat.

 

For, lying there agape, the cat

Was stunned to see the bird

Not only back but at his sill,

Yet with the taps he stirred.

 

The blue bird beamed a loving smile,

Her eyes gave off a spell.

She said, ‘I know thee, cunning spy,

I know thee very well.

 

I’ve seen thee watch me day by day

Upon thy windowsill.

And to this present day I see

That thou art watching still.’

 

The cat knew not what words to say

From feeling rather meek.

Yet, with a little laugh, the bird

Once more began to speak:

 

‘Caught thine own tongue, I see, dear cat,

But come! Undo that bind,

And let thy words flow out to me

To say what’s on thy mind.’

 

‘’Twas but surprise that caught my tongue,

Inhibiting the flow

Of words. Once gone, thou art back home,

And eased my pain and woe.

 

Yet who was he? The blue bird who

Had taken thee away

From all thou lovest and loves thee

Upon that Autumn day?’

 

‘He was but my potential mate�"

A ghastly looking bird.

He loved me so, though I not him,

On that I give my word.

 

For there was one I had in mind

(One not as blue as me).

He was who I have long admired,

And he, good cat, is thee.’

 

‘O gentle bird, my heart runs wild,

But tell me this, I pray:

If thou dost love me, wherefore didst

Thou fly with him that day?’

 

‘To test his merit for my love

(That was his pressing plea),

Yet, knowing of thy love for me,

I soon set course for thee.’

 

With that she pecked more at the pane

Until she made a chink.

The cat but stared at it then her,

Who grinned and gave a wink.

 

‘So kiss me through this chink, dear cat,

Prove we were meant to be!

Prove both thine eyes grew red from tears!

Prove thou lovest me!

Then in such gaiety, beneath

Spring’s canopy of bliss,

The cat and blue bird through the chink

Engaged in their first kiss.

 

And, as the sun was moving west,

Without another word

The cat stood up, and quit his sill

To wed the fair blue bird.

-EDP

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'The Blue Bird'
emipoemi,
This was striking, a reminder of how opposites do indeed attract. Awareness and time gradually bringing a mutual attraction between Miss Blue Bird and her fine Cat. You know it was great that the two of them were not at odds which is what one would expect in a natural scenario. No prey being sought by our tiger kitty. Kudos on a really creative weaving of words and ideas! From seasons and colors full of change to the same beauty seen in the experience of seeing loveliness and attraction become a reality for your two fine characters. This was just a blast to read.
Blessings,
Kathy

[emipoemi]

I'm so glad. Thank you so much!

[fadingtale]

Beautiful! Love how this was well-written! Thank you for submitting for all about love contest!

[emipoemi]

Thank you so much for reading!

[Raven Moonchild]

(applauds) This is absolutely brilliant!!! It's as if William Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe came together and made this. :) Bravo, my friend, bravo!!!! :D

[emipoemi]

Thank you so much! Interesting observation!! I get why Shakespeare (and trivia states that the last stanza was going to actually reference R + J, but I ended up not being able to make it work, so I changed it to what it is now).....but what about the ballad struck you as Poe-esque?

[Raven Moonchild]

The detailed changing of the seasons. :) I'm not gonna lie, I've only read a couple of Poe's works. lol #I'mtheworstpoetever

[emipoemi]

re seasons - fair enough

re hashtag - #nahyarnot

[Raven Moonchild]

lol :) I keep meaning to sit down and re-read my favourite poets. Spending all my time writing, I forgot about their works that I loved so much.

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Epic Poem (fable?) beautiful and eloquent. Classical language, form, flow and rhyme. Cat and bird cast as Romeo and Juliet ( but much happier!). Love this lilting tale (tail?). Excellent work!

[emipoemi]

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.