The Bird and the Squirrel

With its wings spread high,
In the azure sky,
There was a bird,
That loved to fly.

In its drey by the river,
lived a squirrel,
That loved its home....
By the house of the weaver

One day the bird came,
to drink by the river,
and joined the squirrel
in its little game.

The bird had fun,
so did the squirrel,
and the games continued,
be it rain or sun.

Soon the winter came,
And the spring was over,
As the trees became bare,
Things were no longer the same.

The squirrel had to hibernate,
and the bird had to fly,
migrate to warmer lands,
so were they, destined by fate.


But they decided to wait,
As they loved each other,
the bird stayed on the ground,
with the new companion that he had found.

But the sky lured him,
And he grew restless,
He wanted to fly,
Into the deep blue sky.

The squirrel saw his pain,
And idea struck in her little brain,
she stole from the weaver,
yarns of wool to weave herself wings.

They made the wings,
and both were ready to fly,
but alas!
The squirrel could not match the bird in the sky.

As the distance grew,
There were conflicts few,
The squirrel wanted to come back,
to the ground she loved.

The bird loved her,
So it came back with the squirrel,
And she cropped his wings,
So that he could leave her never.

But the wings came back,
and so did the urge,
to fly up high,
in the deep blue sky.

The bird was constrained,
and the squirrel was drained,
of ideas to make him
happy again.

The squirrel loved him,
And could feel the desire,
in his sparking eyes,
that looked like balls of fire.

So she let him go,
into the realms of unknown,
to follow the sun,
into unknown lands.

The bird is now free,
and so is the squirrel,
but yet they could see,
they were bonded by friendship.

They knew that,
maybe they would never be together again,
but would always have each other,
to share joy and pain.

And so they parted,
the bird to the sky,
and the squirrel to the ground,
both cherishing
the warm friendship,
that they had once found!