She is a small ball of feathers,
Passionately knitted by the nature,
Embellished by brilliant colors,
And cherished by the angel of cuteness.
She winks through her tiny pips;
She pierce slowly through her beak;
She chirps when she is messed;
She trills out of elation.
She immerses in her small bath-tub
And enjoys the touch of aqua!
When she sit on the rim,
She splashes out aqua!
Her beak is a mini-machine
That separates husks from nuts.
Her legs, so petite as that of sticks!
She shrinks herself on doze.
I wonder what she chants every time!
I wonder if she really enjoys bathing!
I wonder when she separate husks!
I wonder everything about her!
No matter how hard my life sway,
Her voice are the bricks of my day,
Whose twinkles are embedded on my soul!
And this perishes only when I foul!
