My dearest myna bird of hue blue and lemon-limned, surely your brilliance attracts without need of drink from a loving cup.
Wear your breast feathered, pronounced, soft, and bright, but let your wings be your aegis in flight, eyes aware of both kinds of unmet might.
Making way through a wild both dogged and sly, vulpicide won’t rid each threat standing nigh. Love finds those brimmed with courage supply.
Tub-thumping self-worth are squawks of less sure feathered feet; your awe is noted in the poise upon toes by all whom you will meet. ; )