Birds In Cage
When sang the street,
Mama trotted out of home
In much delight.
There gathered many people
In a big round
And leaned over the centre
Their necks bound.
Mama ran over to the place
At one breadth length,
And forced into the onlookers
With her full strength.
There sat a big dark man,
On head a turban,
With a cage in his front and
Birds in the one.
Melodies of their voices in
Sundry notes and tones
Caught each young and old
In fascination.
Beautiful little birds -- all
Colourful and rare,
Wings, feathers, smart going,
But caught in the snare.
Little Mama got a shock
Bigger than her joy,
As she heard the crying birds
In pain and dismay.
She ran back home fast, straight
To her father,
"Papa, papa, buy me birds!",
She cried for.
The father gave a smile at
His daughter's craze,
Then bought her whole birds
With the cage.
Then, Mama took the birds out
Into the open
And opened the cage door with
A grand passion.
Happily, the birds flew out,
Away into the sky,
And Mama thanked her papa
For the rich buy.
"Can we all survive without
Our home?,
Tree, nest and open sky is their
Home of freedom.",
Saying this, she went home
With her father,
The dark man selling birds
Was never seen after.
©️ N P Samal
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