Once upon a time, in a land known as Fleeb,
a bunch of plump birds waddled under the trees.
“Under the trees?” you’re forced to ask why.
“Under the trees? Don’t birds usually fly?”
Birds usually fly in the sky, that is true;
but the birds of Fleeb had tried something new.
Instead of time spent soaring high in the sky,
they wobbled and squibbled and watched clouds drift by.
They stopped building nests made of sticks and strong stones –
instead spent their time adding fat to their bones.
“Why work when we can eat? Why worry when we can play?”
the plump birds of Fleeb became famous to say.
But a darkness was coming, I am sad to convey –
a darkness that would take all the Fleeb fun away.
This darkness would block all light of the sun.
This darkness would pause all the play and the fun.
An owl came with news that he wanted to share.
The darkness had passed through his land way back there.
He sat on a branch and started to speak,
“You’ll need to build nests to protect all your weak.
When the darkness comes, for awhile it will stay.
You don’t want your young ones to wander away.
They can’t see in the dark. They could fall into a hole.
They could trip on a rock or walk into a pole.”
After giving advice he flew off in a flurry,
leaving the Fleeb birds with nothing but worry.
As soon as the wise owl had soared out of sight,
the Fleeb birds bobbled and toppled with fright.
The blue birds, they clustered together to sort.
They gathered all rocks and all sticks for their hoard.
The yellow birds with tears cried out, “That’s not fair!”
To the blue birds they yelped, “You all need to share!”
The green birds plopped down to watch the big rush.
They feasted and questioned, “Why all the loud fuss?”
But the red birds – oh, the red birds were wise.
No panic, no crying; instead they devised.
Leaving behind the crazed fray to go search
for creative ways to get out of the lurch.
They gathered some yarn and a string from a kite.
They found an old belt and a chain from a bike.
They crafted and grafted and constantly shared.
They helped and they sheltered and showed that they cared.
When darkness came over the sweet land of Fleeb,
all wondered if the birds would make it indeed.
The sun ripped apart the dark with its light.
The sun always gives the dark a big fight.
When the sun gave the last cloud a hard shove away,
there was a sad sight that I must now relay.
Fleeb still remained, but forever was changed.
The whole Fleeb bird structure was all rearranged.
The blue birds (though sheltered) were hard, tough, and bitter.
The yellow were broken and now helpless critters.
The green birds in darkness had drifted away.
They never built nests and thus went astray.
But the red birds – oh, the red birds did well.
Using wisdom and kindness their power did swell.
Their red wings grew stronger, their waistlines did shrink.
Their hearts grew five sizes, great thoughts did they think.
Today, now in Fleeb, red birds rule the air.
They rule the fine land with grace, love, and care.
The sun shimmers down, a sweet smile on its face.
Fleeb, now today, is a wonderful place!