Parrot Times |
Poems |
© 2004 Jodi Giwoyna All Rights Reserved |
Plight of the Parrot by Terri L. Doe The Rainforest where we once lived was lush and thick and green The trees they reached into the sky like none that most have seen. And in the tree's a hollow spot is where we both would go, For in the hollow, we would lay our eggs as white as snow. The forest it had plenty of food for us to eat And water holes where animals would play and swim and meet. One day as I was in my log I heard an awful sound, I flew out to the lookout branch to see what lurked around. A human with his nets and gloves, machete and a sack, Had come to steal our chicks from us, Oh how I want them back. And when he took our little chicks I heard a piercing cry, He dropped my chick from up above, I had to watch him die. And when he left, we went to see our hollow and our nest Our family was gone you see, our place where we would rest. The village man, he walked for miles through forest thick and green, The babies cried inside the bag, it hurt to hear them scream. Into the village with the bag the merchants came to see, When opened up a single chick is all that there would be. On the bottom lay my chick his body limp and frail, His eyes sunk in, his wrinkled skin, no longer would he wail. The thunders coming closer the tree shakes from the ground, Branches flying everywhere our home is falling down. I fly away and then I see my mate is no where near, I search above the tree tops no calls for me to hear. And on the ground my lifelong mate lies still as still can be, And we will never mate again and never will be three. And all the trees where we once lived are gone forever now, For roads and pastures take their place and ranchers with their cows. Our food supply has dwindled our water hole is gone, No place to rest my tired wings Dear mate it won't be long. Soon you will not see us in the forest if you look, The library is where we'll be inside a picture book. So won't you tell your children of the parrots you once knew, And rest your head at night with ease Knowing, you did all that you could do. |
Many of you have forgotten this truth but you must never forget it: you remain responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. -Antoine de Saint-Exupery |
A bird, a bird that has been Stumbling through pots full of pain So that his colour's as loud as his voice- Screeching red, squawking blue, A shower of shouting grating green, Besides technicolour swearing and blasting, He's an exploding palette of a bird, A jabbering coloured window With a great yellow sun Struggling to get out of him Through the joyous panes of his feathers. - Gwyn Thomas |
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