Little Birds Tweeting Greeting comic poem 390 by Angela Lansbury

A little birdy boy is tweeing

Not saying, 'Boy,  I am annoyed,'

No, it's, 'I'm here, happy greeting

Listen to me talking, tweeting!'

What he means I'll never know

Is it, 'Come here,' or, 'Let\'s go'

My ear hears what he has to show

So I'm going with the flow

I do not hear him the next hour

The silver birch his ivory tower

He hides inside soe garden bower

One sweet son'g enough to empower

 His voice stays higher, never lower

Like me singing in the shower

Always faster never slower

Maybe the dear cat makes him cower

But despite the joy I heard

In my garden not one bird

Leaves, green grass, yellow flowers

I could sit and stare  for hours

But something outside isn't right

Litter strewn throughout the night

In the garden playful foxes

Tore apart discarded boxes

Out I rush, sweep, pick it up

Drop it in a litter bin

I'm not glum, job is done

Fox is out, litter is in

Fox ran off, bird flew away

Now it's time to start my day

I have wasted hours and hours

First pick litter, then pick flower

One must do whatever needs -

Cut dead branches overhead

Cut back roots and pull out weeds

Now a neater flower bed

What a day, a lovely start

Vase of flowers lights my heart

Birds and foxes, beg your pardon

It's my turn to own my garden.

-ends-

copyright Angela Lansbury. Copying a couplet with acknoledgement to the author is fair use. But if you would like to share the entire poem please share the link back to this post. Thank you.

Also see poem 383.

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