Aside ~ Fly Away

Indeed the bluebird makes my eyes turn read and my hands then into wringers, preferably of necks not hips. 😈🔥💞

The Eclectic Poet

Ever want to wind up and pop that fluffy bird of hope that perches in your heart? Maybe tweak one of its tail feathers?

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all. ~Emily Dickinson

Bird, Sttaaahhhhppp!!! Why does my heart leap to see his face in my newsfeed? Why did that last box I unpacked contain his letters from University and beyond? Why, when it has been made perfectly clear that he will not speak does that mutant little Ornithurae continue to make me think that he might?! He’s a a big butt head with a head like a butt and I don’t want him to speak but that traitorous turkey warbles away…

How ’bout you just bugger off with that infernal ‘bluebird of happiness’?

Maybe go poop on his head for me…

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