General Fiction posted June 15, 2024

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The Small Brown Wren

by Verna Cole Mitchell

On one golden summer day, a small brown wren flew through the arc of shining water

from a sprinkler. Afterwards , she was delighted to see her reflection in a mud puddle. The sun

had made the water drops on her feathers to be sparkling gems in a wonderful array of colors.

Gleefully, she sang:

Come and see. Come look at me.
I'm as pretty as can be.
No one now can call me plain,
Nor my color, they disdain.
I'm a most attractive bird -
Jeweled feathers. Have you heard?

Later, as she flew over another mud puddle, she saw that the same sun that had made her

sparkle had then dried the droplet gems on her feathers till she was once again just a

small, plain brown wren. She had no jewels, nor did she sparkle. She hid herself within the

leaves of an old oak tree and sat, sad and alone, upon a little limb. Her mate found her

there and flew to sit on the little limb beside her, where he then began to sing:

I've come with love to make you glad.
Can't you see? Oh, can't you see?
Your brown's beautiful to me.
Of any other birds, there are,
You're the prettiest by far.

And off they flew together, happily, to their nest, way up high in the same oak tree.

A Jewelled Bird Poem, Flash or Both contest entry
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by Susan F. M. T. at

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© Copyright 2024. Verna Cole Mitchell All rights reserved.
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