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.
Meenas Poems 