MASTERPIECE #3122

/// Their duet done, Euterpe engaged
with the songbird she’d recently caged:
“Those were Sweet Sounds we made.”
But it loudly inveighed,
warbling “FREE ME!!!”— not sweet, but enraged.

/// When she copied its trills with her flute,
she’d assumed the song’s meaning was cute.
Sadly, humans and birds
do not share the same words,
so the songbird’s complaining was moot.

/// The caged songbird proceeded to squirm.
It would neither deny nor affirm
what the flute player heard:
He’d been an early bird,
and the cause of the flautist’s ear worm.

/// Though the breeze from the seas can be cooling,
the sun’s heat on that seat is just gruelling.
The perched bird has it made,
plus it’s cage provides shade,
but on marble the girl’s sweat is pooling.

/// On that marble bench, both of them sat.
Then Euterpe heard notes which were flat.
She put down her flute,
for the bird had gone mute.
Then she opened the cage. That was that.