The baby sparrow was a bundle
Of trembling wings and open beak
That bounced along the garden path
Giving out a hungry squeak.
Mother sparrow flew to and fro,
Worms and insects for to seek,
Trying hard to satisfy that
Very loud insistent squeak.
The cat was waiting in the flowerbed
And through the leaves it took a peek
As the feathered bundle bounced along
With a "come and get me" sort of squeak.
The baby sparrow had no idea
He was close to death, cheek to cheek,
And so I stepped onto the path
And off he flew with a startled squeak.
The cat just gave me a sullen stare
Then turned away, too miffed to speak,
But knowing that his time would come
For I can't be there for every squeak.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved