Saturday, May 26, 2012

Wet Bird

Hail, fair robin - we are gladly met
though your feather-clothes are sopping wet
from all this rain that is falling yet -
so hurry along to home.

Why stand you there with curious eye
getting pelted with water, refusing to fly?
Must you wait until your wings are dry
before you hurry along to home?

No, you can't come with me inside
although the door is open wide.
I care not how much you chide
this is not your home.

Now the rain has stopped, or can't you see?
You can therefore lay off staring at me.
Shake the water from your wings and be
hurrying along to home.

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