The Flower And The Bird

The Flower And The Bird

A flower opens to the sky.
With petals painted bold and bright.
It seems to hold the morning sun.
And turn its colours into light.

A little bird is standing near.
With feathers glowing blue and gold.
It looks as though it came to see.
A story waiting to unfold.

The leaves are dancing underneath.
They curl and twist around the stem.
While every petal seems to shine.
As though the sun belongs to them.

The bird sits quietly beside.
The flower never moves away.
Perhaps they share a secret world.
Where nothing needs to speak or say.

The colours tumble everywhere.
Like something dreamed and brought to life.
With every brushstroke full of fire.
And every petal free from strife.

The flower holds its head up high.
The bird looks proudly to the sky.
Two little pieces of a world.
That never needed asking why.

Perhaps the bird will fly away.
And leave the flower standing there.
But something beautiful will stay.
A memory floating in the air.

And when the evening shadows fall.
The colours may begin to fade.
But in my mind they will remain.
A little world that art has made.