My ‘too is a pretty white cloud,
Whose antics make me quite proud.
That son of a gun
Is so full of fun.
But boy, is he ever so loud.
Our conures were always so good,
Until they encountered some wood.
Then with a will,
Each used his bill,
To destroy whatever he could.
There once was a parrot from Leeds,
With improved nutritional needs.
Put pellets in the diet,
But he wouldn’t try it,
And stubbornly clung to his seeds.
We once had a parrot so loud,
He could be heard over a crowd.
Training and toys
Helped stop the noise.
And now of our parrot we’re proud.
Our birds love to bathe every day.
Their showers are ever so gay.
With wings open wide,
They turn to each side,
Getting thoroughly wet as they play.