The Blackbirds Return!
Busy are the nest builders – picking up their threads – with blue sky from wall to wall,
Ring-neck Doves gather their dry grass and moss – while the songbirds sing their call!
House Martin’s crisscross above the hedgerows – Woodpecker beats a rhythm on a tree,
The Sun it warms the ground – the crops grow all around – to the buzzing of the Bee!
Stillness hangs upon the greeting of the morrow – as I close behind the gate,
The comfortable corner with nature’s blooming – going with the flow an elemental state!
The chorus of birdsong – rings in the round – as they go about their chores,
Two by two the Wood Pigeons rest their moment – to the south the tree is yours!
The sound it comes and goes – with the chatter of Crows – bunching here and there,
Over the hedge in the west there’s a Kestrel rising – gliding a path upon the air!
Climbing with the Sun the shadows retreat – where the rains they turned to drink,
Standing in awe at the seasonal growth – with a skin of blushing pink!
As if for an encore the Blackbirds return – lining the nest with four new eggs,
Using the gap under the door as an entrance – playing out their second legs!
As I opened the door to the shed with supplies – commotion took to flight,
Sneaking a view with a snap to show you – from the corner to my right!
Retiring from the scene with a close of the door – I leave them to their peace,
With a wistful wander around the outer path – I relax and feel release!
Settling in the chair with my back to the north – I gather up my words,
With the start of the opening of the Foxglove flowers – I watch the multitude of birds!
With the passing of time I mix up my paint – shaking the water from my brush,
For a coat of green to blend in the posts – with the foliage growing lush!
With a gentle smile comes the wave of gathering – when company greets the day,
The Orchard trees laden with fruit and nut – with their birth on nature’s way!
The explosion of growth of the beds and the pathways – with the will of life expressed,
The celebrants with their minds on the Summer Solstice – our host is duly dressed!
With the lingering smell of freshly cut grass and the feeding of the fire in its pit,
The several piles of cut Willow are tidied – the weeds and cuttings burn with it!
High is the pitch of the whistling in the east – drawing in our gaze,
There’s a Finch standing tall and in silhouette – with the chorus of displays!
The buttercup speckles the Grove with their freckles – shining in the Sun,
They carpet the rise of the hill beyond – up the climbing of its run!
Dragonflies dance in the late afternoon light – passing on the breeze,
Reflecting their vision in darts of colour – a life in quick reprise!
Following the flight of the Bumble Bee – I prepare myself to leave,
With a fond farewell I head for the gate – wearing my heart upon my sleeve!