In Rancho Costa’s tracts of cozy homes
A pair named Phil and fair Lucretia live.
While Phil’s domain’s machines with wire and ohms,
Lucretia’s legal job has much to give.
They work and help maintain The Wellspring shrine
As priests with boars Eugene and bold Maram.
As work and temple tasks through time combine,
These ffowlish crave the roles of dad and mom.
As loving ffowlish mates in marriage bound,
Through eager hope, they plan to raise their eggs;
With help from eager nursing staff they found,
They make their plans through calls and hurried legs.
The fowlish race are crested, birdish folk –
With plumes of grey for gals and blue for guys.
With scaly limbs and golden beaks that poke,
The fowlish race is keen in speech and eyes.
Today arrives a nurse with useful things –
An ffowlish known as Val. Her nervous mien
Is joined beside the door by buzzer rings;
While dressed in scrubs she’s surely meek but keen.
“I’m here for you” says Val with ample zest.
“Come in” Lucretia says to Val with zeal
And leads upstairs the nurse to see her nest;
The nest’s secured with lighted warmth to feel.
Despite persistent grief, Lucretia’s soothed
By Phil with hardy hands upon her back.
Her worried mind and bundled nerves are smoothed
While surely seeing Val’s equipment sack.
Inspecting every egg, their nest and where
They lay, a thorough Val makes sure the heat
Is right – without the means to chafe or wear
Their shells. She also keeps the bedroom neat.
“Your brood is surely safe in hands like mine”
Says Val with pride. “I’ll watch your eggs of three
And keep them healthy here. They’re truly fine.
When hatching’s near, I’ll signal you to see.”
In time, the ffowlish pair continue work
While Val the nurse secures the eggs with care.
Though tense, Lucretia strives – a legal clerk
With much to do while Phil has wires with wear.
Inside the temple grounds of Wellspring there,
A feast of summer’s height excites the folk.
As potent scents and singing fills the air,
The shrines are blessed with oils and incense smoke.
The grounds with vibrant cloth on statues draped,
Is filled with bold décor and fragrant blooms.
The shrines and themes of many cultures shaped
Keeps Wellspring bold in fields and sacred rooms.
As Phil and fair Lucretia lead the rite –
With help from bold Maram and blithe Eugene,
They bless the space and fill the shrine with light;
In turn, a leading Phil speaks wisdom keen.
“In ages past”, a sagely, stoic Phil
Intones, ”the world was full of risks for broods –
Both furred or scaled or full of feathered frill.
Our homes are now secured with healthy foods.”
“My love Lucretia bore our eggs at home.
We wait for hatching young in every egg.
We welcome summer’s gifts on Terra’s dome;
For health and joy to every god we beg.”
For Phil and fair Lucretia days proceed.
A signal sent to them they both receive.
“It’s time” says Val the nurse with words to heed –
A need to come the couple now perceive.
With haste upstairs they go – both Phil and fair
Lucretia there as Val’s beside the nest.
The eggs of three with swiftness shake; The air
Is filled with deeper breaths both thrilled and stressed.
The cracks of every egg with time expand
And usher forth the ffowlish young of fair
Lucretia joined with Phil. Each little hand
And infant body greets the bedroom air.
Their birth with cooing friends and baby toys
Both Phil and fair Lucretia love with zest;
As Douglas, George and Ciel their infant boys
Enjoy the world outside their hatching nest.
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