Indeed, the sky was overcast that day.
And in monsieur Arnaud’s backyard,
Henrietta, the cleverest chicken was
to traverse on a journey hitherto unknown.
dans la maison, the aroma of ground spices was wafting in the air,
sans the meat; la prescient Henrietta,
gazed at the sky one last time,
before her life would end in a cauldron of hot water.
Oblivious to Henrietta’s plight,
the pássaros from Amazon gleefully glided
on the vast canvas, creating a million design
of murmurations, for the passersby to marvel at their collective conscience.
Henrietta’s plead for help reached the ears of an uncommon starling
and no sooner the thought waves crept into her tiny mind,
than a rush of energy spread across her body, commanding
a swift action to save the chicken’s life pronto.
En masse the birds flew, past the rotunda,
past the river Seine, past
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