He sat up on the boulder
Trying to look a bit older
His chin out thrust
Hair perfectly mussed
And acting very much bolder
The woman he adored
Who he wanted to hoard
Flew by him, but did take a look
She thought he’d been ill
Had a flu like chill
Now looked much better, still. . .
She landed close by
He’d caught her eye
He asked her to join him in flight
The two birds flew south
Right into the mouth
Of a chimney he had earlier found
He said “I’ve looked around,
Let’s fly down
And nest there in the flue
Its a perfect spot for us to stop
To build a home for me and you.
The Bag Lady 
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