Tweet
A poem by Tom H. P. Davidson

One fine day my Auntie Dawn,
Proceeded to mow her lawn,
And in bare feet stepped on a thistle,
Instead of swearing, Auntie whistled,
Whilst this helped her vent her rage,
It woke her budgie in his cage,
Now this may seem quite absurd,
But Tweetie was a loyal bird,
He heard the whistle of his mistress,
And sped to aid her in her distress,
So quick of mind, nimble of beak,
He gave the cage-door latch a tweak,
And so within a sec or two,
Tweet Budgie came to the rescue,
Auntie sat by her roaring mower,
And at her foot did closely glower,
For her vision was slightly blighted,
With being very shortly sighted,
And as well as sight bereftness,
She suffered with a bit of deafness,
On the approach of young Tweetie,
She thought he was a bumble bee,
And as he flitted to her aid,
She swiped him to the mower blade,
A cut off chirp, a puff of down,
A greenish fluff storm fluttered round,
A pile of feathers at her feet,
Was the remains of shredded Tweet,
To Auntie this demise was tough,
She’d wanted Tweet her budgie stuffed

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