Thread: Avian Throne Invasion

Persistence paid off.
For days during meal prep,
he'd been trying to sneak in
before the sliding door
slammed onto his neck or back,
both surely as bruised
as a banana loosed in a semi.

A clang preceding
a chorus of commingled screeches
signaled his success.
He hung upside down
from the canopy of black bars,
his hysterical laughter
proclaiming her place as his own.

Chloe cowered in a corner
as the bully with five times her bulk
gave her swing a mighty fling,
then unnested her throne of string
with perches wielded as spears.

My efforts to expel the rebel
were met with furious attacks
on fingers I happen to be fond of.
Only repeated retreats
skirted his beak
and saved my skin.

She became a kamikaze
once he spilled seed.
He clipped her mid-dive,
relegating her into rubble
and dubbing her a bottom feeder.

On went heavy work gloves,
out came crazy Nico
sentenced to his solitary cell
a vestibule away
for the rest of the day.
Ear ringing complaint
was followed by a fruitless
lock picking stint
and finally a concert of pretty whistles
to convince me he'd reformed.

The kitchen has always been
Chloe's domain
and thus it shall remain.
First come, first served,
leaves no room for interlopers.
A leash has been purchased;
a shackled claw can't stray
far from a shoulder bouncing
during mise en place.

A jerky ride for an insurgent,
a pooped upon apron,
and a few feathers
flavoring the food,
are a small price to pay
for the safety of my tiny
scullery queen.
Even the fiercest finch
is no match
for a portly parrot
bent on being king.

Lisa, You have a brilliant bent for the whimsical clever! Soothing, all the while, bringing me a much needed smile or causing me to laugh. So you’re the Foster Parrot, here? The mother who tries to rule the roost! But is seems your feathered children need to be sent off to Military school.

I adore the way you describe the ruckus! And so colorfully. Colorful like, umm, a parrot?

Chloe cowered in a corner
as the bully with five times her bulk
gave her swing a mighty fling,
then unnested her throne of string
with perches wielded as spears.

I read color here and a great alliteration. And when are you having me over for dinner?

a few feathers
flavoring the food,

　
They are clever ones! And you pegged this little one so descriptively.

a fruitless
lock picking stint
and finally a concert of pretty whistles
to convince me he'd reformed

You example why endings of a poem are so important:

Even the fiercest finch
is no match
for a portly parrot
bent on being king.

A thouroughly enjoyable read. Thank you! Laurie

I absolutely love this! Smiled all the way through, and I could see the whole story clearly. Naughty Nico, Poor Chloe.

Ear ringing complaint
was followed by a fruitless
lock picking stint
and finally a concert of pretty whistles
to convince me he'd reformed.

Even the fiercest finch
is no match
for a portly parrot
bent on being king.

I adored these parts! What an old con man he is!

Thank you so much, my dearest Ladies, cap intentional. I know this type of thing has a very limited audience.

Dear Laurie, I'd never allow feathers in the food, but this is a piece. I'm so happy it came across as whimsical, at the moment, it wasn't funny at all. Actually I feared for poor Chloe and resorted to screaming like a loon. Nico is out of control since his feathers grew in, but birds were intended to fly, who am I to deny him that right? Ever so thrilled you enjoyed.


Dear Cindy, Of all people, I was reasonably certain you would enjoy this. Your love for your pups is no secret. Naughty Nico is putting it mildly, and I've taken measures to ensure my little Chloe's safety, I refuse to take away his ability to fly, but the fresh boy must have boundaries. Thank you for enjoying.

Best to both,
Lisa