"I'm five and a half today"

My little visitor said.

The three year old just looked

And gave a cheeky smile instead.

 

They'd known that a bird had built a nest

In the topiary quite close by,

And therein had raised two little chicks

'Til it was their time to fly.

 

Each time my little visitors came

They'd try to check the nest

But when they found it empty

They looked a mite depressed.

 

Now, the three year old went exploring

And called out excitedly, "bird, bird" -

We all went out to see.

Sure enough, there was the bird

Lying under the topiary.

 

I remembered then one rainy night

That bird had returned to the nest.

Was it shelter from the storm

Or did it just need to rest?

 

Had it now just died of a broken heart

For the chicks had flown away,

Or was it simply its time had come,

As ours will too, one day?

 

Then the young dad took the shovel

And under the shady tree

He laid to rest that little bird

That died so recently.

 

Just for a joke he put some flowers

From the frangipani tree

Upon the grave of that little bird

We'd all come out to see.