Nesting
Canopies of trees have burst their buds.
testing, is it time to blossom?
to herald the coming green?
listen . . . no barren avenues today
the air orchestrated with birdsong.
blackbirds call from the horse chestnut roof
wives chime replies from birch spires.
a lilting debate about whether it’s time.
whether it’s the weather yet
or the risk of a frozen February mist.
begin early, there may be three nest-full’s
hatching this year. three full nests?
that’s an awful lot of work
but a full of bounty of worm, who can resist?
My lovely friend Isadora, a talented poet http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/
suggested that I submit this poem here http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/
you’ve been busy Gilly – love this one…
I wonder sometimes how creatures do know it’s the “right” time – when Nature seems to be ahead of herself, and it may not be safe. Your poem painted a picture in my mind.
Thank you both, I can never take myself too seriously when I play at poetry
a wonderful promise of things to come
lovely poem stone.
listen . . . no barren avenues today
the air orchestrated with birdsong. — great line.
Yes, no-one works harder than a mother bird.
I know, I can’t imagine how they keep it up with a nest of babies
A lovely poem!!
A lovely poem of hope and renewal … very nice, Gilly.
I think you should sumbit this to : http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/
It’s a poetry blog I believe you would enjoy partcipating in.
Toodles,
Isadora
Good morning dear! Thank you for the suggestion, I think … I’ve just done it!
Have a lovely day whatever you get up to, I’m off to work shortly, tatty bye Gx