He sat on the mat all bright eyed and bushy tailed
but the other half of him was sad because he had failed.
He failed to do what he was surposed to do and that put
the cat to the end of the queue.
A family of cats had tried to get the canary, but he was to
sharp because he flew like a fairy, so all the cats called him
Lairy the Canary. For months on end those cats tried their
best, but dear old Lairy he would never rest because he
was shrewd and at his best. He knew each cat would prowl
and stalk, but he was sharper than a hawk.
A bird on a wing he may have been, but he led those cats a
merry scene. Ducking and diving every day just to keep
those cats at bay, and he would always have the last say.
Bird seed would dropp and feathers would fly, but this old canary
would never say die. This brave old canary whose name was
Lairy a small yellow bird that flew like a fairy.
Then one day he was needed to go down the mine
and he knew it was near the end of his time.A blast of
gas and old Lairy lay flat, but at least it was better than being
killed by a cat. Dear old Lairy now lies in his grave,
with an inscription on his stone, B for Brave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem