Practise The Birdy
At the crack of day when the baby birds do sing
'Tis then that the strings of my heart go zing!
At the noon of day when the stomachs are rumbling
'Tis then that I practice my acrobat tumbling
How sad that in the postluncheon period
As the baby bird grows and matures
We get out our snares and our lures
| Contributors: | e, F, Georgette P, loaf. |
| Poem finished: | 24th September 2003. |