Blackbird
The wild flurry of the new autumn Blackbird,As a threat to avoid, it has seen, or heard,
A warning to others of what it has seen, or heard,
The flurry and scamper to somewhere safe.
A wild flurry betraying the possibilities,
A song so sweet and tuneful,
Mesmerising if only a minute or more,
Spent allowing its' penetration, into the mind.
The new autumn migrants,
Nervy and scared, new surroundings,
Long distance on the wing to reach these shores,
Our gardens, our fields and our woods.
I wonder is this just a transit stop,
A place to feed and gain strength,
Or will this, my garden, my piece of suburbia,
Be your resting place, your playhouse, your auditorium.
An abundance of fruit and of berries,
Lie waiting for you and your flock,
To arrive and feast to your hearts content,
On unloved and abandoned fruit trees.
Trees that have stood and forced fruit,
For many years, they have flourished,
Now untethered, unloved and untendered,
In the old ladies garden, no longer a treat,
But a burden in later life now housebound,
A time gone by when gathered and shared,
With friends and family, too many to use,
For now, unable, to open the door, let alone gather fruit.
Flown in from far afield, from northern climes,
Where the snow has started its' winter onslaught,
While the weather was mellow and southwesterlies prevailed,
Until winter set in and daylight hours dwindled.
When the days become longer and life bounds afresh,
The Sun lifting higher above trees, hills and buildings,
Not the quick winter scurry just peeking its glare,
Above rain cover roads waiting to blind.
Spring will send the migrants back,
Back to sing and penetrate minds on distant shores,
With the mesmerising song, a minute or more,
Spent listening intently until the scared scamper,
Takes you away from moments of peace,
Shared so willingly with you, our yellow beaked friend,
Can listen to the melodious tune you share,
From January through February, March til December.
The migrants all gone just the faithful remain,
The native Blackbird, suburban corner we share,
So willingly, just for the moments of peace,
Shattered by song so melodious and sweet.
Poetry by Steve Murphy
Read 583 times
Written on 2010-10-29 at 01:04
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