Posted by on
Dashikied in her drizzle
And gradually getting soused...
This morning
See fledglings
Warm their wings
On her moist skin
This tweeting tribe
Life must have bribe'
For they neither toil nor spin
Nor do they gather into bin
Yet are well fed
In her daily banquet
While beings human
Man and woman
Are anxious, as they think
Of what to eat, what to drink
Wherewithal they'll be clothed
Working,Worrying...
To the very doorstep of grim death.