ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

The Homeless Homing Pigeon

© Stephen Whiteside 02.10.2012

I’m a homeless homing pigeon.
I would gladly travel home,
But I have no home to go to,
So I’m forced to daily roam.

I sleep underneath the bridges,
In the tree-tops at the park,
And it’s very very lonely
In this city after dark.

I’m a homeless homing pigeon.
There are some say I’m not well,
For the healthy don’t get homeless,
And they reckon they can tell.

I don’t know if I’m healthy,
And I don’t know if I’m sick,
But I reckon if I had a home,
That might just do the trick.

I’m a homeless homing pigeon
And I really don’t know why
I choose to even say it,
So I fly...and fly...and fly…

I don't know if you know but I know you have left out a know on the line

I don't know if I'm healthy

No! No! No need to thank me I just felt sorry for the little pigeon in this sad story. So many people thing of them as flying rats but I always reckon they are very beautiful with their iridescent plumage and pompous struttings, they are harmless friendly little critturs who just like to bill and coo

Liked this little poem very much Stephen - short and sweet.

Cheers

Maureen

Thanks, Maureen - and thanks.

Short sweet and very neat.

Anyone remember - BASS - and its implications ?
( Brevity. Accuracy. Security. Speed.)

Jim.

Thanks, Jim.