The sparrow was furious
She was also curious
To know what the snake would do
So, she swept down the nest and flew
Circling the tree looking for the snake.
Her little ones chirped
But the snake had usurped
Her power to love or think
The sparrow was furious.
She wanted to exact revenge
The fire within her heart strange
Even to her little babies crying
Worried of their mother dying
The snake peacefully slept in his den
The sparrow was furious.
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A Speech Therapist by profession, an avid reader and mother to a teen and a tween, whose penchant for stories made her a writer. She loves to read and write fiction and poetry.
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Good rhythmic sense.