The Songbird Seller Along the Quay

By PoeticMeditations

Every morning I pass  by her along the quay,
Beside a table stacked with small wooden cages,
Each holding a songbird brightly chirping away,
Amidst the booksellers scrabbling for their wages,
Sitting erect with her soft hands placed in her lap.
In the mornings, “Bonjour,” in the evenings “Bonsoir.”

Draped around her thin shoulders a worn, woolen wrap.
In an angelic voice from some heavenly choir,
Singing an aria, the sweet sound crystalline,
Beautiful like one of the songs of her caged birds,
Smooth and delicate like a rich, velvety wine.
But I must be on my way to peddle my words.

One morning I pass by but she’s nowhere to be seen.
A young man selling jewelry stands now in her place.
Surprised that in my heart I feel her loss so keen,
Full of tender sadness, yet a smile on my face.
Gone somewhere the songbird seller along the quay,
I believe to her sweet dreams she has flown away.


(PoeticMeditations © 2017. All rights reserved.)


About poeticmeditations

A 19th-century romantic poet living in the 21st-century. The Romantic poets, nib pens, candlelight, waistcoats, and pocket watches are a few of my favorite things.
This entry was posted in literature, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s