ur own poetry of bird
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what do u mean by poetry of bird???
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On a gentle summer day,
a tiny bird takes its first flight,
Doing cartwheels in the wind,
it sails above day turns to night.
He rests on a branch for an hour,
Then reaches for the sky with power.
He knows not what he’ looking for,
He just opens his wings and soars!
But soon enthusiasm turns to doubt,
As it seems forever he’s been flying about.
His eagerness just stoops and stoops,
And he wonders, “I was right to have flown the coop?”
But strength soon overcomes him once more,
For look what lies ahead, behold and before!
A place so lush and green and nice,
His brand-new home his paradise
hope it is helpful
HAVE A NICE DAY
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