Gathering food for the nest.
Young Tommy, the scamp, had wandered away,
He was really quite far from the rest.
His mind was so filled with the vision, the dream,
That he gave no thought to his way.
He’d seen her but once, and was lost to all else,
His thoughts all recalling that day.
He ambled along, still lost in his dream,
Until from far up above
A remarkable rain came tumbling down,
And ended all thoughts of his love.
He looked, and he stared, at the things raining down,
And exclaimed in joy and in awe
“Why it’s food from the gods!” And he shouted aloud
To tell everyone what he saw.
And so, though he’d wandered unaware in his dream,
In a trice he was no more a zero.
For this bountiful gift of the gods he had found,
Made him the nest’s greatest hero.