Wrens

The wren is  such a little bird,
With feathers brown and tail erect,
Always busy amongst the leaves,
Seeking a meal of plump insect.

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I saw a pleasing sight today;
Beside the path below the cliff,
Seven young wrens venturing out,
Their new found flight a little stiff,

The parents wary of my approach,
Chattered from a nearby stone.
I had no thought of ill intent;
But wished to see the young full grown.