Chirp Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

She was back at her home called a nest
just to stretch and to snooze and to rest.
But a voice from below
(from a cranky old crow)
said, no bluebird can beat their own chest.

So our bluebird, both delicious and smart
as a bird a bright picture of art,
chirped a song in her tree
that brought great harmony
to the forest and calmed down her heart.

Sing a song, said the owl to the others
let us honour all women and mothers,
let us sing her to sleep
and forever we'll keep
our bluebird for us and our brothers.