Archive for bird

The Cure

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , on July 4, 2013 by Myra's Circle

This sickness, how could it be,
When vitamins don’t work on me?
When nothing helps but makes me worse,
This sickness, it is like a curse.

The cure so simple doesn’t help,
Nor any medicine on the shelf,
Nothing will appease this hunger,
A horror that can only linger.

Go away, foul deadly beast,
That eats my happiness like a feast,
Shoo, go on, please do not stay,
Please, oh please just keep away!

I no longer want this plague,
I do not want sadness so vague,
But it keeps coming back, you see,
It won’t get away from me.

I need it somehow, this sadness so dark,
I’m free as a bird, and sing as a lark,
But when I’m happy, it comes for me,
It will not simply leave me be.

Why do I insist on being so sad?
Why must I continue to feel this bad?
I don not quite understand this thing,
Such as makes me sadly sing.

A disease, a sickness, that’s what I believe,
But I don’t think I’ll ever find a key,
A cure for this, does not exist,
A cure for this, is one thing so missed.

Wind

Posted in Fantasy Stories, Hopeful Stories, Love Stories, Sad Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2012 by Myra's Circle

“Fly Wind, fly!  You’re free now!  Fly to the edge of the earth and back, and tell me of your amazing adventures.”  whispered the little girl to her Giant Sky Eagle.  Nearly everyone in Wind Valley had one, mostly for transport or for a pet.  Wind didn’t budge.  The little girl could tell he wouldn’t go anywhere without her, so she said, “It’d just be for a little while.  You could come back for me.”  she told him soothingly.  “GO!” she shouted when that didn’t work, tears springing to her eyes as she watched her friend fly away.  “I’ll see you when you come back for me,” she whispered loudly, “When you come to take me to a better place than here.”  The little girl stayed on the ledge until Wind disappeared from her sight.  She shouted some parting words to her swiftly departing bird, “Remember me.”

 

Years had passed before she saw Wind again.  The girl was now fifteen.  It was a clear day above Wind Valley, but not underneath.  Underneath Wind Valley, fluffy white clouds floated harmlessly from place to place as Wind Valley stayed in it’s place in the sky.  No one walked the earth below anymore, as the air was too toxic.  The air up in Wind Valley was beautiful, and not polluted, as there were no factories or cars.  The girl was standing on the same cliff that she had ten years ago, when she had released Wind.  She closed her eyes, letting a westerly breeze blow through her hair, filling her nostrils with the sweet scent of flowers.  The girl had come here every day since then, hoping Wind would come back and take her somewhere else, on an adventure.  She hated Wind Valley, as beautiful as it was.  She was to rule as queen when she turned sixteen, but she was afraid of ruling.  She was never able to do all of the fun things that other teenagers were.  Wind, in other words, was her only way to escape that bleak life, and that dark future.  The girl figured that if she could escape, then no one would be able to tell her to be a queen anywhere.   The girl looked down, watching the clouds drift.  Somewhere above the clouds, she saw a blue shape shifting.  She squinted, trying to make out what it was.  It was coming towards her at an alarming rate.  She blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing.  Wind had come back to her!  As it plunged into her, she could have sworn it squawked her name.  KAIRI!

Little Birdy

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems, Songs with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 11, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Little birdy in the nest,

Tucked in safe, just like the rest.

The little birdy had a dream,

Of love and peace and to be free.

It sang as high as it could sing,

And dreamed of being a fitful king.

The little birdies will sleep well tonight.

Birdy’s on my shoulder,

Pecking my ear to a smoulder.

Whispering secrets it never meant,

Hushing sighs and off it went.

It had some lies under its wing,

A nice little lie song it would sing.

The little birdies will sleep well tonight.

Whispers never go unheard,

Stories that are quite absurd,

A string of lies by a little bird.

And the  little birdies

Will sleep well tonight.