A Littel Bird

A short story

A little bird flew into my garden

It was a Robin I think

Lands on my bird table and sits in the water

To bathe and to have a drink

Oblivious at first

To any other thing

Seemed to be enjoying himself

Fluttering his damaged wing

He had obviously been hurt

In some mishap or a scrap

And was taking advantage

Of the water laid on tap

But lurking in the undergrowth

Was Blue, next doors cat, an English Grey

Whose was thinking to himself no doubt?

To catch our robin redbreast

Before he flew away

So stealthily creeping nearer

As our little friend did rest

Oblivious to the danger he was in

So far away from his safe nest

But I need not have been worried

Because when the cat did pounce from off the floor

Our Robin was more alert than I thought

And flew in through my door

Standing on my kitchen table

He looked a funny sight

With one wing barely moveable

As he twittered by the light

I put out my hand and he jumped on

As if to say, I know I will be all right

Then I bathed his little damaged wing

And used matchsticks as struts to mend the break

Then bandaged it all up together

A real injured soldier did he make

He stayed indoors with me for almost a week

Sleeping in a box underneath the stairs

His injuries keeping him in a sedate mood

Until, I removed his temporary repairs

Then he flapped his wings and chirped away

So, I opened up the door

And he flew away so majestically

Sadly for me, to be seen no more

Author's Note

Just a few lines of thought