The birds

I stare with wonder

At the trees torn asunder

With a stroke of the axe

That can bend people’s backs

The leaves bend and whisper

They all seem to confer

Are they sorry at their plight

Are they mourning all this blight?

As the men hack the trunk

I walk towards my bunk

For there’s a terrible pain in my head

Which feels as heavy as lead

I sit on my chair in a trance

While my dogs around me prance

‘What’s made me so moody?’ I think

As my third cup of coffee, I drink

Then I remember the birds so wee

Sitting helplessly on the tree

I feel a pang tug at my heart

I grab my coat – and away do dart

I reach the tree just in time

For just as I rescue the young ones from the grime

A branch falls down on their nest

As I sigh, and stroke their tender breasts.

A warmth fills up and envelops my heart

As I feed the birds crumbs and some tart

My heart sings, as I stroke a little red crest

Yes – now I can sit back for a well-earned rest.