When I go to sleep in my tent
I often wonder where happiness went
these days it doesn’t come easy
not to notice the world, slimy and sleazy
Waxbills, Babblers and Fire finches
Jostling and shoving for more space – in inches
The smaller two species vacate the bath
Not willing to face the Babblers wrath
Though they hang around close
Hiding on the four cornered branch
of the crossberry bush
Waiting and hoping to get another chance
They just want to have a feather-clean pose
To present before the lady so her heart goes mush.
pj pretorius
rius