The Girl Who Flew Away

The grass, a glossy emerald green beneath an azure sky; the breeze was blowing to and fro, a noontime in July. The birds were singing melodies of flying in the wind; they didn't want to go alone, so they sought out a friend. A little girl with flowing hair was dancing 'round the tree; her dress reflected rays of light that shone among the leaves. She clapped her hands; she clapped them twice; she clapped her hands three times; she then began to spin around and jump just like the chimes. And then two birds atop the tree began to plummet down; they swirled together as they traveled toward the emerald ground. The little girl had stopped her spin, her arms were at her side, until she stretched them out to let the birds give up their glide. They landed on her little hands, their wings extended still; the girl began to run to find a place atop the hill. As she ran up to the top, a bird began to follow; then all the birds soon did the same and left their wooden hollow. The girl, still running, birds in hand, finally found her stop; she slowed her feet and caught her breath while on the mountain top. The birds, still flying, followed suit and tried to slow the flight, but when they got to where she stopped, they couldn't stop their plight. So 'round and 'round and 'round they flew around the little girl; she felt a breeze begin to blow, then she began to twirl. She twirled and twirled and twirled until her feet were off the ground; she felt herself move toward the sky, and then she looked around. She saw the tree beneath her feet, The oak, so far away; she was flying with the birds, what driving disarray! Summer's eve is not yet here; The time is now or none; So fly as high as you can see, Or else your summer's done.