My Wild Garden Birds

My Wild Garden Birds

Of my dear garden birds,

I will say a few words.

Creatures of beauty and perfection,

existing for our delight.

The most abundant are the house sparrows,

who dart hither and thither around the garden like arrows.

The blue tits are my favourites, they are so sweet,

entertaining us on the apple trees with their acrobatic feats.

I find them most endearing,

and of us humans they tend to be the least fearing.

Also attractive are the great tits and coal tits,

who of our nuts and tree-dwelling insects rave,

for this is the food they crave.

I watch the blackbirds forage with mirth,

for what they can find on the grass and in the earth.

They upend bark from the rockery,

scattering it on the grass, their attitude quite cocky.

Jackdaws hang onto the dispensers containing fat balls and seeds,

and feed to sate their immense greed.

The feral and wood pigeons gather on the ground beneath,

hoovering up the fallen feast.

The herring gulls for anything will scavenge,

their appetite ravenous.

Springtime brings joy for the reason,

that it heralds the breeding season.

At the start of mating,

the females give the males a rating.

I watch the male wood pigeons bowing to females,

the female flies off, followed in hot pursuit by her suitor,

their flight lumbering and cumbersome.

The male feral pigeons puff up their feathers,

dancing in a circular motion, all the while coo cooing.

This is their perennial habitual ritual.

The birds root around for material for their nest,

taking what for their needs is best.

The chicks are born,

and need to be kept warm.

The parents do their best,

delivering fresh food to the nest.

The chicks fledge,

a joy to observe,

and the parents must keep their nerve.

A father blackbird sees the jackdaws off with a stand-off and glare,

protecting the little ones in his care.

A mother sparrow calls her chick to come out of the wind and rain,

the chick swiftly follows her into the hedge,

her instruction not in vain.

The family of jackdaws are at the fat balls.

Asking to be fed the babies emit loud squawks,

for this is how they talk.

A newly-fledged robin is on the patio,

so small and fragile in the rain.

A puff of wind would send it reeling,

I wonder how it is feeling?

Its mother is close by on the fence,

taking care of its defence.

The baby’s mouth is soon agape,

for the food it awaits.

Two blue tit chicks are in the trees,

their downy feathers blowing in the breeze.

Their parent feeds them grubs,

from the trees and shrubs.

Prey animals are around,

to see what can be found.

A magpie sits upon a garage roof,

a young sparrow it just took.

The father sparrow makes a harrowing call to its baby,

could it still be alive, just maybe?

A sparrowhawk has run amok with the flock,

now all the avian talk.

Another casualty,

another bad day.

The birds are now all up on the telephone wires,

sending out a cacophony of song,

we know something is wrong.

A cat is there,

looking for a bird to add to its daily fare.

A cat on the prowl,

brings demise so foul.

A cacophony of cheeps,

while the prey animal reaps.

Wood pigeons fight,

delivering vicious pecks to necks.

Of wood pigeons I find them humorous:

I liken them to bumbling, rotund upper-class twits,

stereotypic dim-wits!!

Other birds are occasionally visiting,

each sighting being truly riveting.

Bullfinches, chaffinches, goldfinches, siskins, thrushes, starlings and wrens,

can appear at any time,

the surprise is never knowing when.

A flock of waxwings from Scandinavia,

because of a lack of food they change their behaviour.

Coming to these shores,

to feed on berries,

in their scores.

Birds in flight,

such a wondrous sight!!