In the large open veranda of my old house,
A tree stood beautifully tall.
Chirping gleefully on it,
little brown birds there were,
Swiftly flying and hoping around,
“Noisy little creatures”,
My grandpa would shout.
In some nooks and corners,
Or branches of that tree,
They built their home.
Come evening, they would all be gone.
Time moved on and I moved out,
Leaving behind the brown birds and my home town.
Some holidays, one summer when I returned,
The house was there but that tree no more,
No tweeting; no noise;
On the veranda floor.
I looked in the nooks,
And those corners where;
some hay and twigs used to play.
All clean and tidy, everywhere,
Now aesthetics of the house
had to be taken care.
Saddened and in dismay,
I boxed in hope to see them.
But since that eventful summer day,
I have not spotted a sparrow again.
Let's plant a tree,
and build their nest,
And wait for a while,
Till the little brown birds,
Return home.
Image Credits - V.V. Krishnan -The Hindu (Google Images)
Poem © Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)