Pitter patter,
Tweet tweet,
The sound of chirping chicks I meet.
Fluff balls run
on the floor,
as their body wills them to explore.
They stretch their
tiny wings out wide,
in hope to gain at least some pride.
The mother broods
and clucks away,
begging for them to please just stay.
But stay they not!
Oh, what curious minds!
What could I possibly find?
What's this?
What's that?
Watch out for the sleepy old cat!
They peck and chirp
and scratch away
but now they think;
That's enough for today.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
Poetry// Petrichor // // 🌏 the pleasant smell of earth after rain💧// Est. 2014 ~ 20.. Copyright LittleAussieDreamer (Alannah Mills) 2020
