The Tender New Born

Three little sparrows 
 fly away from the bush
as I go near,

Tweeting incessantly they
 seem to drive me from 
the place.

I stay a little while
 they grow fidgety 
 harp as loud as they can.

I like to play the game 
remaining  in their vicinity 
to test their patience.

They fly high and low 
flutter and falter
in circumambulation.

I stop my game and 
retreat finding  them
 sailing towards the bush.

They bury their heads  
into the bush. What for?
I watch them from afar.

Hearing  the whimper of the 
little ones, just hatched,
 tender and nascent  

What a sight ! so to say.
The mother and the babes
 nestling and nudging.