In the azure sky, they take to wing, A symphony of feathers, birds that sing. A pome of birds, so wild and free, In their graceful flight, beauty we see.
With plumage of colors, vibrant and bright, They paint the day in a glorious light. Each species unique, in nature's grand scheme, A living testament to the avian dream.
From the eagle's majesty up high, To the hummingbird, a tiny sky spy, In forests deep or cities bustling, In their songs and calls, a world's unrustling.
They migrate across the vast terrains, In search of warmth or seasonal gains. A symbol of freedom, they fill the air, In the pome of birds, a joy so rare.
With nests in trees or cliffs so steep, They nurture their young, their secrets keep. In the dawn's chorus, their voices unite, A celebration of life, a pure delight.
So let us treasure these creatures of air, With their tales of flight, their beauty so rare. In the pome of birds, we find a connection, To the natural world's endless reflection.
