Invitation to my table!

Why is it when you visit my little abode

You dally for such a short while?

Is my table not to your liking?

There is, as I'm sure you've calculated, no dress code.

It is quite safe here, camouflaged by the shrubs,

Perched on its stilt, high in the air,

Safe from predator's eye, reaching up to the sky.

Come, stay longer, feast on nuts, fruit and tasty grubs,

I know when you've been, I can trace your footprints 

In the dust of the bread and grain left from your meal.

You come, you go, you flutter in, you flutter out,

And if I catch you there, you pause, your beady eye with it's watchful glint

Ever alert to the dangers that lurk in the shadows of the day

As you gather your meal - a free feast to feed your family.

Now you are gone to a nearby branch , to perch,

To listen, to see who is about and then you are off on your way,

Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards you fly.

The busy Blue Tit, nervous, frantic in your work to feed  the ever hungry brood,

Soon disappearing when the heavyweights dive in,

The demonic cloak of the Blackbird, the muscle of the Magpie with their raucous cry,

Snatching what they can as they squabble for crumbs.

Then all is calm, I sit, I watch, I wait,

In glides the Thrush to fill his picnic basket from the menu there,

His wings beating softly like the pulse of the Tom Tom drums,

He settles for a while, pecking, preening, perching, then still and statuesque 

As a sudden sound raises his alarm,

He too soars to the safety of the Sycamore Tree

And there he peeks as he pecks 

At the picnic basket he has gathered from my banquet.

As the day comes to an end I sit, I watch, I wait

But no more visitors arrive at my little house,

As the garden gathers and wears dusk as a cosy blanket,

I switch off my sight and use my sense of sound

Because now it's time to collect my dues

For laying out such a banquet in your honour,

All around me nature's orchestra can be found

In the chorus of your songs, such a melodious sound

As you celebrate the joy, the delight in your survival,

Anither day, another meal, another flight,

And I vow to again invite you to my table as in your evensong my senses drowned.


  • ron parrish aka wordman

    they can make your day

  • Goldfinch60

    Wonderful write, we too feed the birds and at the moment they are costing a fortune as the young are coming to feed. We get so much pleasure from watching them and that is priceless.

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