20 January, 2014


I travelled to the Eiderdown to whistle to the trees,
where hiding amidst the fluttering leaves, small birds chirp like buzzing bees.
They're the size of a child's hand and dressed in jewelled green,
and under the leafy boughs will in the sunlight gleam.

This is my place to rest
to think and contemplate
This is where I do what I do best
daydream while I sit and wait

If I'm patient and I'm still
My little friends after a while will
Come and crowd around me
Copying my small tunes soundly

I don't know if they tire at all
of that funny little buzzing sound
but I know that when I start to sing
they're imitations do fair astound.

No comments:

Post a Comment