Evelyn Judy Buehler

March 18, 1953 - Chicago
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Winter Bird

I was a valued, vaunted veterinarian, maintaining health for animals I loved,
As a rainbow sparkled rich colors, from the moment peach sunshine shoved.

I was dedicated to such adorable patients, and they soon responded in kind;
Like the sameness march of each season, as a vivid parade of years unwinds.

Treating wounds and prescribing medicine or surgeries, filled the lemon days;
As blooms relish, but never comprehend, entering into gilded sunshine phase.

Friends and I had frivolous picnic fun, in green, flowering fields of no farewell,
Enjoying flavors in a fresh, blue atmosphere, near the foliate town of Carmel.

Fall's fancy made fandango leaves fly, as family came, after flaming summer;
Like green rapture of an awakening world, after the frozen, fruitless slumber.

I lived in the house of luminous emeralds, in gilded times of glittery sunshine,
When velvet, whispering leaves waved avidly, until cherry sunset, prime time.

Stares of stately sunflowers stayed on sun, from apricot east to scarlet west,
On my sleepy street of the strawberries, which in jams and pies, tasted best!

Near neighbors stayed nice and cool for visiting, at scathing, notorious noon;
Like flashing stars in nameless, frozen space, moving to odd, mystery tunes.

Golden barrel cacti resembled pincushions, in the red days of bleeding hearts;
And dancing girl impatiens celebrated nature, eventually curtseying so smart!

Plum parrot blooms squawked dawn, as swaddled baby blooms were sleeping;
And flying, duck orchids became airborne, as rabbit succulents were leaping.

One day I sat in my garden of yellow yearning, and a bird fell dizzily from air.
It was a beautiful, purple martin, stopped listlessly, in green grass of despair!

I knew at once the migratory bird was injured, and discovered a broken wing,
Like the times you were lonesome and downhearted, without a reason to sing!

I nursed the bird through the fall and winter, at my home, a location familiar.
As one, we awaited a jade queen of spring, as Grape regained vigor, until her.

We grew to be the best of young friends, and Grape would sit on my shoulder;
And when snows came, he'd perch at the window, dreaming that he was older.

Grape healed before wild days grew warm, but winter then limited adventure;
Yet, one day, remembered flight gave him power, as tears made my eyes blur.

One lovely spring day, a year later, a purple bird sat on my shoulder suddenly,
To my great joy, it was my winter bird, flown to the home of my heart, luckily!
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