The Bird
The Bird
Long winter over, welcome Spring
He threw his head right back to sing
Hear that liquid rippling note
Burst from out his tiny throat.
Tho’ you never could believe
How many twigs it took to weave
And fabricate his little nest
So lady friends would be impressed
For if he wants to find a mate
Nothing must be second rate
Plummage fluffed and feathers preened
Only beak and claws need cleaned
He spy’d a birdbath on the lawn
Swooping down his eyes were drawn
To a beauty matching all his moves
Surely this encounter prooves
At last by a chance of fate
He had met his lifelong mate
Impatient for exchange of names
He didn’t see the window panes
That shimmering vision was alas
His own reflection in the glass
Glenys Halliday
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