The Tui

Soaring way up high,
Darting from tree to tree.
Hunting on a fern frond,
He can see you and me.

Singing, eating, gliding,
Breathing in fresh air.
Living the life a Tui should,
now he’s over there.

It sits in the Macrocarpa tree,
Cleaning it’s white wavy feathers,
Listening to wonderful sounds.

Thinking about breakfast,
he doesn’t want crunchy cereal or
delicious bacon and eggs,
he wants a good old big juicey spider or
two.