The Sparrow

Amongst the green bulrushes, lay the sparrow, singing his song,
Tirelessely waiting for the day to dawn.
Showing off his colourful chest, to the whispering breeze,
A headwind is coming along, his altitude he had to increase.

Hopping around, from birch trees to acorn,
His only worry is what to eat at morn.
Laughing out to the grass, he joyfully plays,
Flying around in circles which leaves him in a daze.
Zooming around like a jet, calling out to his non-existing friends,
Acting like he is busy running errands.

An avid flyer he is, dodging anything in his way,
All the actvities of the day left him tired,
and in his cosy nest he lay.
If you were that tired, sleep you may,
But this energetic little sparrow,
was still thinking of the activities of the next day.

– Edwin Joseph

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