A Birds Quarrel
She sits there on a branch alone,
Along comes another, swish down with the swipe of his wing,
She fly’s quickly with a vengeance, swish through the branches,
To another tree she goes, mating season has come,
He sits there with all of his strength, she fights venomously not to be taken,
She fly’s again through the trees and he fly’s after her,
The quarrel has begun as he will fight to the end,
The nest is warm as he fly’s by and settles in,
She moves closer to him as he spreads his wing over her,
Lovers they become as he wins her heart,
Soon comes their offspring,
He patiently sits with his warmth,
Why she fly’s looking for worms to bring,
She takes her turn warming her nest,
They hatch with all their glory as they feed their young,
Soon the offspring will fly and we all will fly back north,
to come again in, Winter and Spring. A Lovers Quarrel it is.
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