A Perfect Pair

One partridge in a pear tree is a lonesome sight to see,

and though the bird can fly away he sits and stares at me.
He watches as I sing about the twelve fine days to come

but as the song continues, the sadder he becomes.

He twists his head from side to side, blinking small black eyes.

Then he chirps, ‘Don’t sing that song. It only makes me cry!’

He ruffles light brown feathers from his head down to his toes,

pruning each one carefully, tweeting as he goes.

Once he’s done he stands up straight and sighs a mournful sigh.

His beak begins to quiver as a tear forms in his eye.

He starts to tell a tale that’s full of misery and woe,

of sorrow and of heartbreak, as he paces to and fro.

‘You’ve no idea how hard it is to see the doves and hens

all kissing and canoodling. It seems to never end!

Then there are the calling birds, the geese and all the swans!

They prance and swim and lay their eggs and proudly sing that song.

And do not get me started on the lords and maids and ladies.

The pipers and the drummers wake up all the sleeping babies!’

I listen as he tells me of his wish for just one thing –

to find another partridge who will make his sad heart sing

I ask him to come closer, wipe away his tear and say,

‘No need to be alone for look who’s flown in from away.’

He turns his head to where I point, his eyes full of surprise.

His little heart now bursts with hope and to her side he flies.

He hops a little closer, pecks her gently with his beak.

She fluffs her wings and then she lays her head upon his cheek.

Together with their heads entwined, their future bright and fair.

No longer lonely but instead a perfect partridge pair!

Link to the song

We don't have a chimney,
So what will Santa do?
He can't come through the doors
Because Dad locks them too.

Do not worry, do not fret,
Christmas won't be tragic.
Santa always gets inside,
I think it must be magic! 

The grass is growing high as wheat,
While I write this little poem.
The weeds are high above my feet —
Should I stop and mow 'em?

Inspired by the article: 10,000 Items Are Flying To The Moon On Artemis I And Some Of Them Are… Curious

I love to write into a book
And draw pictures too.
I take it everywhere I go,
To the beach and to the zoo.

I sketch down all the things I see,
And write poems as well.
Sometimes I'll write a story — 
There's just so much to tell!