Freedom Is... Poem by Angela Wybrow

Freedom Is...



Taking a rest in the shade of a tree,
Or nestling down on my new owner's knee;
The surprising coldness of frost or of snow;
Warming my wings in the sun's golden glow.

Watching busy bees buzzing round flowers;
Feeling the coolness of sharp summer showers;
Possessing a full quota of soft, fluffy feathers;
Experiencing every possible type of weather.

Feeling grass tickling the soles of my feet;
Hearing small birds so joyfully tweet;
Seeing clouds floating through a blue sky;
Watching painted butterflies fluttering by.

Watching a snail leaving a silvery trail;
Watching the postman delivering the mail;
Watching a spider silently spinning;
Hearing my owner happily singing.

Breathing in air, so fresh and clean;
Giving my feathers a much-needed preen;
Stretching my wings to their very tip;
Down in the dust, taking a welcome dip.

Knowing I'm able to roam around free;
Knowing I'm loved for just being me;
Having a whole new world to explore -
All of these things and much, much more.

Friday, February 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: animals
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A poem about ex-battery hens and their newly found freedom.
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Angela Wybrow

Angela Wybrow

Salisbury, Wilts, UK
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