HIS FAVOURITE PIE




Through the window, he'd come everyday,
To get a piece of his favourite pie,
Come spring, summer, autumn or winter,
He knew, his meal would always be there.
Only this time, the freezing cold didn't spare,
Everywhere, those feathered lifeless bodies lay,
Of them, he too was one,
But, in spirit, he did still did come.


❤❀❤
This post is for magpie tales 295 ( Image Copyright – © painting by Rubens Peale )
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8 comments:

  1. Beautiful description of birds & seasons

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  2. Yes , there must be a redoubtable spirit of the magpie ! ...we are all embedded in nature I guess, but with all our oil and technology, we are temporarily able to delude ourselves we are not, but to our own detriment , sadly

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  3. Fine response to the prompt...

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  4. Delightful and different! An excellent read.

    Visit Keith's Ramblings!

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  5. A lovely tribute in memory of the Magpie.

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  6. Nicely done Nandiniđź‘Ť

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  7. How very sad ... but you've written a beautiful poem. Here's to the spirit of the magpie! Cheers - Bastet

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  8. thanks a lot everyone :-)

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