Birds Of A Feather Poem by John Sensele

Mamma and I were birds of a feather
Mamma toiled till she breathed her last
Poppa, mamma, my siblings a close knit family together
To laugh, to share a folk story of our glorious past.

Mamma and us in our affordable abode
Mamma served us warm meals
Poppa, mamma, my siblings our story could make and record
To share our pun and fun with no pesky recording deals.

Mamma and thirteen of us a formidable bunch
Mamma would send us on errands
Poppa and I on a bike ride through bush paths with our simple lunch
To bond our ties further on Busanga sands.

Mamma would trek far and wide to source for merchandise
Mamma despite her advancing age could never complain
Poppa parade me with pride through our franchise
To teach survival skills even from clouds fell rain.