My second poem

THE BLACK BIRDS, THREE.

On a sleepy tree,
Lay black birds, three.
Who sang a song, all along,
About a pretty blue bird.
Who used to preen ,
Her feathers clean.
In the dawn of the new morning born.
The black birds three,
Would watch dozily.
At her lovely eyes,
As blue as ice
At her nose,
Standing up at oh! what a pose!
At her blue feathers,
They were at the end of their tether.
She shot a quick glance at them,
And they fainted just looking at that gem.
' Marry us pleease!'
Cried the black birds, three.
Exclaimed the princess, ""no I shall not!""
As though she was talking to a pile of rot.
""I have princes in line,
I don't have to marry three coal mines.""
""Boy that's rude""
Exclaimed the crew
And turned around and away,
And what did they see?
The most stunning sight,
Up there in the sky
And they held on tight
Staring at that breathtaking sight
And fell in love
With a kingfisher in flight

.........here we go again!