Mr. Blue

Our little blue parakeet died today.

It’s life had ran it’s course.

For a clean and well stocked home

My wife’s hand was the source.

Daily she would speak to him.

He would rest upon his feet.

Millet was his favorite food.

Her hand would bring the treat.

He was just a bit of blue joy.

Those colors were outstanding.

For years he played and sang

Do in part to my wife’s handling.

He died on a Sunday

But before we went to church

He wanted one time

Upon her hand to perch.

It was his little way to say goodbye

As he reached his life’s end

By touching the hand of one he loved;

The one who was his friend.

He is buried near our house.

Our feelings God understands.

We are just like Mr. Blue

We are cared for by His hands.

A friend loves at all times

Proverbs 17:17 KJV