Kip

The fluffy chick was found beneath a bush. The bush that broke its fall from up on high. On high, a sibling gave no doubt a push, To chick, who knew not yet of how to fly. Delivered boxed around…

Kip

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The fluffy chick was found beneath a bush.
The bush that broke its fall from up on high.
On high, a sibling gave no doubt a push,
To chick, who knew not yet of how to fly.
Delivered boxed around to Lundi’s care.
The cage is nest with better safety net,
Here fledgling soon becomes again aware,
That first and foremost, food needs must be met.
So trapping mice was now a useful act,
With meaty morsel gifts, beside the gate.
We learned a baby kestrel feeding fact,
That chicks can eat, at quite a shocking rate.
When appetite for food and sleep is eased,
The next up wants are exercise and play.
A bit of fun and find he can be teased.
This brainy bird will blithely play all day.
A cardboard kite, a cat and cotton bud,
Are some of Kip’s accepted chickhood friends.
The claws on fingers don’t draw Lundi’s blood.
Fine points that Kip now clearly comprehends.
It’s time to picture deadly hunting games.
White mice were bought as sacrificial prey.
But Kip’s not yet developed deadly aims
So all the mice did see the end of day.
The outdoor cage was better once installed.
A door that opened up the outside world.
His progress now, was never to be stalled.
As days of possibilities unfurled.
For stretches now he’s fully free to fly,
Still playing, holds back, rather than to roam,
But temptation pulls Kip up into the sky,
Returning eased to food and safe at home.
Aloft, the call of freedom soars to heights.
The learning games of chickhood quickly fly.
Much more assured and high these final flights.
The last relaunch from Lundi’s arm, good bye.
The charming bird is free … don’t cry.

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