Two birds, two pebbles-
'To and fro'
Perching on a branch.
On chirps, other swivels
Up, up they go...
No dreams, no trance.
A dweeb with a sly: -
Skimming the air,
The tyke scans weeds.
It's now for the hag to fly
No flair, just finicky care-
Grabs shoots from reeds.
Grass in the beak,
Twittering along.
Pulling and tweaking tussocks
Pecking pretty meek,
So fluttering a furlong-
Tryst's now on the rocks.
Leaves, shoots or petals be,
Chance or cinch, take it all-
Twig, straw or a foil.
Retreat to the big old tree,
Caught pinpricks of a woollen ball.
Blend then a protecting coil.
Pash with hunger-
So feed in offals.
Niggardly may seem,
Peeling skin off lumber.
But the onus dwells-
All they got is the beam.
Tweezers are fatigued.
From dawn to twilight,
Wings aren't at rest.
When told I'm intrigued: -
'Plight of their flight',
Is but for a little NEST...
