There she sat,
Beneath the tree,
Reading from a book.

The wind in her hair,
That made the leaves dance,
Was the only sound she could hear.

She turned a page,
Intent in the words,
And the pictures that danced in her head.

Then up she jumped,
Dropping her book,
Her hair standing up in fright.

A small bird,
Had flown by her ear,
The frightened her half to death!

Six months later,
Her daughter was born,
The child for which she had yearned.

But as it appeared,
The doctor took fright,
And fainted both then and there.

For what had he seen,
When the baby was born,
But a wing where her arm should have been!