02/15/2025
A FluteHat sits upon the crown,
A chick with feathers soft and round.
Its crochet threads weave bright and true,
A tiny work of art in view.
Though merely a hat, it’s more than that,
It’s part of her, a perfect hat.
As melodies swirl from the piccolo’s tone,
The FluteHat chick plays all alone.
With piccolo in hand so small,
She plays a tune that fills the hall.
Her tiny beak and chirpy grace,
Echo sweet notes in open space.
- ai written poem 🤣
