Stork With Me; Bird Puns on Fire, a One-Minute Play

By C. Denney
Monday February 04, 2013 - 02:53:00 PM

“ I lark you,” he said.
“You make me feel like a tanager,” she said.
“Stork with me,” he said. “I’ll never leave you a loon. But I’m vireo late. I can’t sparrow minute.”
“What’s thrush?” she asked.
“I kite tell you now,” he said. “Magpie later.”
“I baked a crake for you,” she said.
“Wait until ostrich my legs,” he said.
“It’s a parrot that you don’t love me any moa,” she said.
“I widgeon wasn’t true,” he replied. “From heron, it’s going to be a little auklet. You see, I accipiter invitation.”
“Chicken come with us,” she said. “I don’t mynah.” 

“It’s snow goose,” he said. “She’s bittern about last time.”
“But it wasn’t her tern,” she said. “We were out of petrel, and I couldn’t plover.”
“Sure, you coot,” he said. “It would have been eagle.”
“You’re shrike,” she said. “I worried she’d never stop grousing.”
“Ibis she’s not like that,” he said. “She’s not that kind of gull.”
“It’s swan thing or the other,” she said. “Why don’t we just barn owl the firewood.”
“That’s egret idea!” he agreed. “Waterthrush! Before we do that, let osprey.”
“Willet matter?” she asked.
“That’s oriole good question,” he replied.