who fears the bird?

Once upon a time, I was a little maiden, dressed in a dainty frock of shimmering pink, or was it blue?
No knight in armour was needed; I rode my own steed into the heat of battle.
Instead of rolling green meadows, I galloped over Grandma's braided wool rug. It glowed in every rich hue, like jewels underfoot.
Suddenly, a cuckoo high on the wall, sprang from a clock and sounded the alarm. Terror gripped my toddler heart.
Tearful and trembling, I rode warily onward, ever alert for the lurking bird .
Like a kindly fairy godmother, my grandma banished the little bird to the dark interior of the cuckoo clock, a little latch clasped firmly in place.
Peace reigned at last.
Onward and forward. Ha, who fears the bird? Not I.