A Sunday story



A beautiful Sunday morning and a tale to tell...

Its an autumn Morning,

Sipping my  warm coffee

Reading the  news paper

Reclining on my old  rocker

The world seemed all perfect

Content and complete to me.


Through the window came in,

A rush of cool October air,

Fluttering my fabric curtains

The breeze seemed to barge in.

My  flowery curtains as though,

Greeted by her sweetheart

Titillating  with the breeze,

Rising and falling with the ebb,

Danced on.

While I watched on pleased

At the happiness that seemed

To fill my living room on that

Sunday morning multi fold

An aura of  joy all pervading,


I noticed the warbler on the fence

There it was,quietly sizing up my

Bird feeder hanging on a low branch

Of the Ash by the barbed fence,

A young tree and a young bird,

My attention it drew, by its looks.

It perched on the fence,off it went

Came back again in a jiffy perchance,

As though it forgot some thing

On the fence, sat there  and looked

Sideways both sides, tweet, tweet

A being of much happiness and beauty,

Its antics sure enticed me a lot!


As it lounged for the feeder,

It disappeared mid air,


It was gone.in a second off air,

I heard wings fluttering and as I

Peeped out of my window,

I was shocked,

to see my little kitten

holding her by the wing,

Quickly I ran out,the kitten came up

to me with its prized catch between its

milk tooth, the bird wriggling to go,

I thanked my stars,

The hunter was an amateur at that,

It didnt take  much time for decision,

All ethics voices speaking up in my mind,

Not here I thought, grabbing the kitten and bird

Released the bird from the kittens baby jaws.

The warbler now on the porch,

Fluttering ,muttering and shivering

It was alive!

I could not believe it,so too the warbler,

Two turns with its wings on the floor

In a second  into the blue sky,off it flew

My kitten in my lap,purring,

I resumed my Sunday morning reading.

Sometime hence,

The kitten between grooming herself,

Looked at me straight into my heart,

A question that it held,I had no answers

Like a tot caught with dirty hands,

I looked away from those dainty blue eyes,

Quietly somewhere I heard my heart mutter though,

Thank the stars, the bird is alive

Its a beautiful Sunday!







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