A Mate For Moses
I bought him a mate,
a pretty bird.
He sat there, sullen,
nary a word.
He wasn't polite,
he would not share.
So she pushed him off his swing
and she sat there.
He pushed her back,
no gentleman, he.
She plunked down beside him
most begrudgingly.
So the swing they share,
not because of affection.
It's the best seat in the house
by unanimous election.
He glares at her,
she glares at him.
My hopes of baby budgies
are now somewhat slim.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
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