The Sulphur- crested cockatoo is a noisy bird
Even in the twilight their squawking is heard
We know their intelligent and live many years
But when one spoke to me softly
Nearly brought on a tear
Now when I say spoke I don't know what he said
But I got the impression he wanted to be friends
Thing is, he was right above my kumquat trees
Each season destroyed by the flying trapeze
Like teenage vandals they tear them apart
Leaving nothing for me, but revenge in my heart
So I'm a little suspicious of my new found friend
A con-man most subtle
After his own end.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 6th, 2023 04:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments4
a lovely write, dear poet
(nature vies to serenade us
we seldom, find the peace within
to notice; turmoil of mind
and unsettled emotions, warping
our experience of existence)
🤣Keep the kumquat trees, otherwise he'll be at your wood work next...............They were here first, though....
Your right, we need a sacrifice.
Nice poem, 2781
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