The scuff holding of the nest is full of thorns,
Which the birds beak pick one by one,
Up to the tree, away from rain and shine,
The castle for the young birds sways in elation.
Walk on the needles, the parents at work,
The claws are strong and toughly leather ed,
The new eggs are soft with no hard shells,
The hays and soft grass are laid as the bed spread.
Both of them are overjoyed, as no third party involved,
They work in pair and stay in their own yard,
The trees are full of nests, where the singing can be heard,
At certain trees, only one carrying the eggs, struggle to meet the end.
Comments about this poem (selective parenthood! by veeraiyah subbulakshmi )
People who read veeraiyah subbulakshmi also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings