THE BIRD HOUSE

Fizzy wind And the blushing sunshine Upon the silhouette Swings those in red, fuchsia and wine Amidst the fascinating greenery Those roses encasing beautiful scenery

And he flies above them all Twittering and flickering Fluttering and lingering Pace fully and fearlessly Spreading its brown feathers Most abruptly!

Then again flapping its white little wings And the yellow straw that it brings Between its needle like beak Swiftly Into the hole it slips Safe and sound it lay Sings the bright blossoms of May Into the tiny bird house

Rolling its glittering gaze Peeping out in utterly amaze For calls him the sunlit sky Once again perfectly would it fly? I watch while they play Cartwheeling in the airway Different songs they sing Of different tunes and beats But definitely assuring their evening retreat

Me and my awaited eyes Impatient for a glance of his But he cares the least For whom I am And what I think But I wait and wait Until evening blankets in And there he comes In his most restless gait It sings no more as it is already so late My tired little soul of feathers Back to the end of his tether

I shut my window in peace What a dreadful silence it is! As he is fast asleep How I wish to freeze you in my thoughts And paint my poem on skies of yours As I still have the mental picture Of that tiny bird house And time has not caused it to fade out.