Hum-ming

A hummingbird’s a tiny chap,

Whose minute wings, like lightning flap,

The smallest of the birding world,

Some like a bee with wings unfurled,

Their home is The Americas,

As good a place as ever was,

Specialized nectarivores,

They pollinate the plants by scores.

With wing strokes up to 80 beats

Per second as each deftly eats,

And, holy smoke, their top-est speed

Can 34 miles-per-hour exceed!

And one more thing you'd like to know,

Only they can backward, go.

From Trochilidae family,

Wow! Now you’ve learned a lot from me.

But this is what I’m ‘bout to say,

In my us-u-al long-winded way,

The reason that they’re HUMming birds,

(And this is really quite absurd,)

But according to the reference books,

S’the sound their wingbeats make. Gadzooks!

You have to know, my dad told me,

The actual truth and you’ll agree,

The real reason that they hum,

(And Dad knew everything. And some.)

They hum because those silly birds,

They simply do not know the words!

Cause Mondays to get knocked a lot,

With poetry, we all besought,

To try to make the week begin

With pleasant thoughts,

Perhaps a grin?

So all of us, together, we,

Have crafted poems for you to see.

And now you’ve read what we have wrought…

Did we help?

Or did we not?

Jenny

Mother Owl

Mimi

Merry Mae

Next week, we'll tell you (from our homes)
Our love/hate deal with wretched PHONES.