I saw a cardinal in my field,
In fact, there were many.
Their red bodies speckled my yellow field,
Before, I was sure I chased out plenty.
But here they were again,
Pecking my luscious grass.
I grabbed my broom and chased them off,
Peaceful yellow at long last.
They were back the next day,
Pitiful, miscreant little things.
So I brought a sword and swung it wildly,
And they fled off with their wings.
The next day I was ready,
I polished and sharpened my swords.
Though there was but one cardinal,
And a yellow flower it flew towards.
I walked toward it,
It did not run, nor did it flee.
Simply perched on a sunflower,
Curiously tilting its head at me.
A sunflower? How curious.
How had I not noticed them before?
I looked deep into the field,
And wondrously saw more and more.
I turned back to the cardinal,
Dropped are the swords I wield.
How could one ever lament,
Standing in a sunflower field?
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