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All English Sonnets


My mind on far off things, my steps unheard,
Menacingly advancing towards her nest.
I was out for stars. The mother bird,
Had different ideas in her feathery breast.

She, with a startling crash of twigs and wings,
Up rose towards the sky and loudly cried.
And though my heart was set on far off things.
In the bush, she rose from, I espied

Three nestlings frozen in their fright,
In a wingless huddle in the bush.
The mother bird all ready for a fight
And I so startled by this sudden brush.

But I was out for stars and I was glad,
To let the mother feel I had been had.

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