SONYA THE SONGBIRD AND KING

SONYA THE SONGBIRD

AND KING KHALID

 

On a tall giant Oak tree

In the middle of a beautiful forest

Lived a very beautiful

Blue throated song bird

It visited a King’s Palace

To sing her lovely blue notes

A thrill she got

To just collect a few flies

And drops of honey nectar

From pistils of golden flowers

So they called her the golden songbird

Sonya

All insects, bees and birds of Paradise

Gold were her feathery plumage

Golden her beak

And golden cloven feet

Like lucky four leaf clovers

 

She set her heart to steal

One day the king who sauntered

By his garden labyrinth

Soulful and happy

For he never had a Queen

Till yet as he often dreamed

So caught up in his kinship thoughts

For he wore a crown

Which was not so easy

For a King to don

Upon his high forehead

Yet wished for soul searching

Peace in his lovely shrubbery

And one special kindred love

For someone soul!

 

On that fated blissful Monday

Caught his sight

The beautiful golden Songbird

Merrily piping the lute

Of her golden beak

A golden sonnet before

The majesty

Though unknowingly

She piped like a magical flute

The Pied Pipe

So golden and beautiful

So melodious and in harmony

The King Khalid

Was besotted by the golden flames

Of her gold plumage

Her feathered long tail showing

Through crevices of Sunshine’s

Morning glories

 

He soon set his faithful guards

To lay a trap

For the soul sweet picking

Bird

It amused him more than many maidens

He would rather listen to Spell Bound

A golden bird

Than have the young maidens as his many

Wives even though they

Were pretty as fleece as snow white sheep

But only the one magic bird

By secret admirer King Midas magical touch

A golden wand

In future would transform into

King Khalid’s golden plumage

Feathered wife to keep in his gold cage prison

And as he soundly slept

He heard an enthralling song by his bed

As the golden songbird sang

Without any reservations a piping flute

To amuse the king’s sweet dreams

As if the golden bird cried

“Sonya Sonya Sonya”

In the King’s sleep

The next day he was overjoyed

Beyond all belief

For his guards had caught

The songbird Sonya

In a golden cage to keep

His golden dream of a golden song bird

To have and behold had turned true

 

He kept the golden cage

With the golden bird

Just outside his bed chamber

Hanging from the high roof

Of his luxurious room

To keep him company

So soulful and sweet

The Songbird

He never did miss his sleep

Every day she sang and he listened

To her weep

From his satin duvet

And fairy muslin pillow of soft feathers

 

Alas! One fine day his sly friend Suleiman

Who he called his best mate

From all the rest comrades

He did not foresee the conniving chap

Had eyes for his precious lute

The singing Songbird Sonya

He was most jealous

Of the King and envied his poor lute

The precious golden beak

Of the Blue throated bird

That made the King immensely happy

As proud as a peacock

Dance in ostentatious grace

Through the rainy seasons

 

With evil eyes his best friend Suleiman

Betrayed the King Khalid’s trust

And one day when he spotted

The beautiful golden songbird

Take her bath in a trough

Poisoned it with drops of lead

The poor bird golden

Now lay dead

And her heart covered in black

Lead

Turned blue

As blue as pencil

Point broken and without

Any sharpness to bring

Out her sad story

To her dear King Khalid

When the poor King learnt

Her sad demise

Wept so soundly

No mice stirred as

Much as a cat mew

Or dog bark or howl

In the dreary palace that day

As all were his favourite pets

All sorry for their master King Khalid

And his dead kindred soul mate

The golden blue throated Songbird

 

Small and dainty

A body as a broken pencil

Without a point

That couldn’t finish

Her sad sob song

To her king heartbroken

Beyond words could measure

And her trapped heart

Full of an incomplete story

The poor song bird Sonya

Couldn’t finish to tell her favourite king

What transpired betwixt

The evil friend of the king and her

When the King saw that the bird

Was dead

A small and dainty carcass lay

In the golden cage by his bed

He wept and wept

In all woe and misery

Not only through the night

But also the whole morning

And commanded his servants

To bury the precious golden bird

Sonya

Just outside the magic wooded shrubbery

Below the gentle giant Oak tree

By the window of his royal chamber

He made elaborate funeral

For the burial of so tiny

A songbird as the girth

Of almost his wrist

To fit in a solid gold glove

That only belonged to the King Khalid’s

Precious attire matching

His golden harem pants

And gold embroidered jacket

Whenever he set out to saunter

Into the wooded shrubberies beyond

 

The little casket was nothing but

The single gold glove of the King Khalid

Kept preciously the little head

Of the golden songbird Sonya buried

Upon a tiny pillow

With a red ribbon

Around her blue throat

As if she were a present

That the King refused to part

So sodden and sad grew the sorry king

Nothing amused him now

Only his bed chambers

With the window that showcased

The wooded shrubbery and the tall oak tree

In th

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e middle of the forest garden paths

Where the King had once seen

 The beautiful golden songbird sing

King Khalid refused to eat, sing or dance

Even play with his domestic pets

The white rats and the caterwauling majestical cats

Even his Husky dogs whimpered

To see their favourite King Khalid

Sleep in a grim tomb of a bed catacomb

Like a pharaoh of an Egyptian Mummy

He carried the spare gold glove

 Less the one he kept for

The casket of his precious

 Sleeping golden songbird

In her funeral burial

Sadly put it on his hand

When or wherever he moved or slept

 

Even ordered his servants and guards

To find the culprit

Who caused such an aggravating offence

To cause him sleepless nights

And endless torture

Without his songbird

The golden blue throated Sonya

But to no avail

The sly deceitful back stabbing friend Suleiman

Disappeared from sights

As sometimes evil hides its two facade face

Behind a grinning evil smile

His so called mate, his best chum Suleiman

Named Man of Peace but dishonesty turned

His name the cause of disharmony

That ruined the poor King Khalid’s dear life

Now Suleiman his best friend

Enjoyed to see the poor king suffer

Who had no choice but accept his chalice

Of suffering

Not even that but sent him flowers

Condolences and heartfelt sympathies

So sincere

That the King would not doubt

His treacherous nature

The King Khalid was beside himself

With grief and lamentations

For losing his dear dear bird

The golden songbird Sonya

 

One day the King

Got so ill

A delirious fit of high fever

Soared a very rocketing temperature

105 Fahrenheit on the thermometer

No medicines now could cure

His ailing heart

The very best therapeutic flowers were

A failure

Also wines, gins and tonics

Even syrups or lozenges

Only one that Lord could send

A Lor’sen’Jeevs!

Could heal if he heard his solemn prayer

To bring back the dead bird

Such a miraculous lozenge for sure

Might have cured King from

Heart failure

 

So that sad night

The king dreamt of the golden

Songbird Sonya

So beautiful turned she into a

Glowing Princess

With a silver throated voice

She sang unto the King

Her incomplete story that she now

Finished composing

“O Dear King I was a Princess

Of a beautiful land

With many things to pen and draw

An authoress and a poet as well

With my famous stories and verses

Captured the heart of men, women and

Children

In my loving valley

Unfortunately one day approached a beldam

In fact was a wicked witch

Who knew sorcery and magic

And imprisoned me as her singing

Golden songbird

I was transformed into that bird

That filled you with music

By her blue throated beak

As I escaped from her clutches

To the wide wooded forest

Where I hid amongst the morning glories

Of sunshine right in the middle

Of its giant oak tree leaves and branches”

 

Then singing sorrowfully

And so sweetly the golden songbird

Sonya continued her unfinished story

To the King

“.......But the wicked witch

She cast a spell

Anyone who fell in love with me

That ill fated day would be as jinxed as

One a curse for me

Would result in my untimely death

Because of jealousy

‘Twas indeed your evil friend Suleiman that poisoned

My bath with lead

To turn my blue throat

Full of blue poisoned lead

So I could sing and amuse you sweetly no more”

 

“Now this strange curse could only be broken

If you fetch one golden feather

Of a songbird that visits

The giant oak tree

In the middle of your forest shrubbery

I heard her sing from the cage

That you put me in

Every day she comes visiting

Hidden inside the morning glories

Of brilliant sunbeams”

And then the magic golden princess

Songbird Sonya disappeared

Like a golden mist

 

The King Khalid in his dream

Lost not heart

But upheld the challenge

Made by the small dainty bird

As the size of his wrist

That slept by far dead

Inside his golden glove

Now transformed into a beautiful princess

Of Dreamland

He saw once again the giant oak tree

In the middle of his wooden shrubbery

And felt as proud as a peacock

With ostentatious grace

That dances with coloured plumage

Only on rainy days

 

He climbed so high and higher up

The giant blessed old oak tree

And reached the tallest branch

As if he was as swift a tiger

With bated breath he caught hold

Of the dainty thing

Not hurting her even a little

But so splendidly fit in his grasp

She was as tightly contained 

In that one golden glove

Inside his palm

That remained with him

Spare the other that he used

For the precious bird Sonya’s funeral

Now he plucked the long golden tail feather

And happily rejoiced

“I have set you free

My lover golden songbird

Sonya Sonya Sonya

Now sing for me my precious princess

Like before you died”

 

The golden songbird opened her mouth

But she only smiled

For she was transformed into that

Beautiful princess of Dreamland

Until the king blissfully

Now had died in his sleep

The King Khalid no more lived

But turned into a soulful Emperor Nightingale

And sang with his golden princess

Songbird Sonya

Spell binding sad sonnets

Reading all her fairy novels

Of magic Dreamland

Forever in sweet dreams

The secret of their love story

The Princess Songbird wore only one gold glove

On her right

Whilst King Khalid another golden glove

On his left

They never knew till now that

Happiness and bliss in the land lasted

So long as sweet as a dream

In a happy Dreamland!