From: joe_f@verizon.net   
      
   zzmikeg2012@gmail.com writes:   
      
   > The Yellow Bird   
   >   
   > The sun was shining brightly   
   > And i could hardly wait   
   > To raise my breakfast window   
   > And gaze upon God’s glorious estate   
   >   
   > The breeze was blowing gently   
   > It made the flowers sway   
   > All nature was enchanting   
   > On this magical day   
   >   
   > I spied a little yellow bird   
   > With a tender yellow bill   
   > I beckoned him to come and light   
   > Upon my window sill   
   >   
   > He sang me songs so cheerfully   
   > As I fed him crusts of bread   
   > Then I quickly closed the window   
   > And smashed his fucking head   
   >   
   > NOTE   
   >   
   > I memorized this poem about 40 years ago, which had been given to me   
   > one day by my younger brother's friend, so I cannot credit the author   
   > or site the original source.   
   >   
   > Then about 35 years ago (1982) I came across a similar, almost   
   > identical, version of this poem that mentioned it had originally been   
   > written by a woman in the 1920's or 1940's (the style did seem to   
   > reflect that era).   
   >   
   > That's kind of vague, but that's all I have.   
      
   I remember a rhyme from my childhood (1940s) that may have inspired that   
   one.  Approximately:   
      
   A birdie with a yellow bill   
   Hopped upon my window sill,   
   Cocked his shining eye and said,   
   "Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepyhead?"   
      
   It had a tune.  I think it was by Robert Louis Stevenson.   
   --   
   ---  Joe Fineman    joe_f@verizon.net   
      
   ||:  Never trust a man who doesn't have enemies.  :||   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)