A Twee Little Birdie
By: Keith Fuchs #myththepoet www.facebook.com/myththepoet
A twee little birdie came to me along a journey,
Chirping a language spangling and purdy;
Only I could decode the lyric and balladry,
This phoenix broadcasted in prose.
A wampole of petunia which eradicates influenza in its worst mode.
This fidgety chickadee hoped to propel me through hell,
Rubbing my elbows with a tug and a nudge,
To rid my conscience of being shunned beams of the sun, by a smothering sludge
Whilst I await to meet my jury and judge.
A spaniel, a beagle from a mount
Led me free from the clutches of the hound.
A bugle renowned and regal,
Pronounced a sound upon my soul's retrieval.
No weasel could construct an easel to stroke a canvas of upheaval,
This twee little birdie delivered me from evil, when I was sickly and feeble.
Delving her beak, deep in to the depths dingy and murky,
Submerging beneath the laws of Murphy, She cleansed me as I decayed, filthy and dirty.
Spared from certain death, my guardian, my savoir: this twee little birdy - Lord knows how much I crave her.
Copyright 2014 Keith Fuchs, all rights reserved.