Walkin on Air


He was more of a friend
than a pet,
'coz he came by himself
help to get
for his injured wings;
among other things
a parrot of passion was he.

To lock him in a cage
I could't bear,
so he flew about free
windows and doors open were.
'Ceiling fans on slow, dear sir,'
requested he quietly.

He loved nibbling chillies,
lots he talked;
played and goofed with me,
about walked;
he came and went: in-out
just as he pleased:
no restrictions, mutual trust.

One day he flew out.
Days went by,
he did not come back;
my oh my,
could he be long gone?
would he come back?
the hearts wonders how love tracks...

Then one bright morning
he flew in,
calling me to come and see;
I went out on the balcony
where his mate,
a beautiful female parrot,
was introduced.

And so it was they departed;
never saw them again,
yet I had made a friend.

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