She sat in the same place, day by day,
Even though sitting still was not her forte,
She was a bird, a free little pigeon,
She flew, in search of a region,
Where she could lay her eggs
In peace.
Between two windows, a tiny niche,
She found her perfect place to stay,
So there she was, after a week,
Guarding her confined chicks,
With her life.
Because yes, she was ready,
To give her life, not one time but many,
So that her unborn would live
To watch one more sun rise and dip.
She could not see them,
Yet she loved them,
With all her tiny heart.
But suddenly the big black crows came into play,
All they wanted was an egg to taste,
Three large crows, with wings so large,
Swooped down on pigeon, who protected her charge,
With all her poor might,
With wings unfurled, ready to fight,
But alas, she lost.
One big crow cawed at pigeon to move,
One big crow took an unborn and flew,
Another one pecked at the remaining egg,
When all the while pigeon would beg.
And there was nothing to save her from the pain,
The little pigeon lost her eggs again.
***
This incident happened a few days ago and I was unable to do anything. And to think I was so excited for the eggs to hatch!
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A BAG OF POEMS
PoetryA spark that fades, Just as you touch it, yet, Illuminating all shades. Fleeting and transitory, Still it manages, To convey a story. Highest ranking till date: #13 in poetry (4/12/16)
