23 May 2012
The little fledgling peered tentatively over the nest, The gentle chirp of his mother urging as he puffed up his chest, Nearer and nearer teetered towards the ledge, When suddenly without warning he was pushed over the edge.
His heart beat his ears screamed as he plummeted towards the ground, The trees rushed by the floor rushed up until he heard his mother's sound, Instantly he knew what he had to do and flapped as fast as he could, No longer the stone falling at speed but gracefully through the wood.
Up and down left and right narrowly avoiding bush and tree, Over the river as he dipped his feet at last he was free, Free to go wherever he wished free to go and roam, Further he went as darkness came he was now far from home.
He landed atop the tallest tree calling his Mother's name, The familiar sound did not return he had only himself to blame, After a cold lonely night he set off at dawn his home to find, All day he tried his Mother his quest but kept determined mind.
As shadows gathered upon forest floor a familiar sight stood tall, Barely containing his delight as he mimicked his Mother's call, Mother, Mother he called out loud it was his turn to be fed, But far below on the leafy forest floor his Mother silently lay dead.
Off he flew into a different world cold ,dark and scary, Deserted by his Mother in his mind had made him wary, A year passed all alone until the sun appeared and the sky turned blue, He screamed out loud for all the forest to hear the sound of the Cuckoo.
The Sound Of Summer • Opuss № I