"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 to 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.