Sitting in my garden chair
Birds are swooping everywhere,
Swallows soaring in the sky,
Garden birds are not shy.
Blackbirds, Wren and Thrush,
Babies in their nest they rush.
Food in beak, in they go,
Babies feeding are not slow.
Down they go onto the ground,
Grubs, insects and worms are found.
Up they sweep, food in beak,
Listen to the babies cheep.
All are fed and happy now,
Back to sleep the babies go.
The feeding frenzy over now,
It’s good to stop and stare,
Sitting in my garden chair.
Birds are swooping everywhere,
Swallows soaring in the sky,
Garden birds are not shy.
Blackbirds, Wren and Thrush,
Babies in their nest they rush.
Food in beak, in they go,
Babies feeding are not slow.
Down they go onto the ground,
Grubs, insects and worms are found.
Up they sweep, food in beak,
Listen to the babies cheep.
All are fed and happy now,
Back to sleep the babies go.
The feeding frenzy over now,
It’s good to stop and stare,
Sitting in my garden chair.
1 comment:
Chris's poem is a simple yet atmospheric poem showing us we shouldn't take a sit in the garden for granted. Her observations are acute and comforting; it's good to know that life is all around us. Well done Chris I hope we see more of your work in future.
Barbara A.Rope
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