Nature’s sweet sounds are but music to my ears,
the dawn chorus of birds that allays all my fears.
Every morning at dawn as they twitter and sing,
their own sweet, untaught melody’s familiar ring
The continuous song of a skylark on high,
as she gradually descends from out of the sky.
Alighting some way from her nest she relies,
on protecting her eggs from a predator’s eyes.
A sand martin’s song no matter what time of day,
can be heard as they fashion their nests out of clay.
The precarious nature as it grows from the start,
is decidedly akin to an architects art.
A blackbird sings fleetingly across the well cut lawn,
seeking unsuspecting worms to feed their newly born.
Hoping instinctively to minimise their arduous toil,
trying however vainly to find some fresh dug soil.
On the roof two late start, starlings due to bad weather,
flitting to and fro with twigs, moss, straws and feather.
In the hope of raising some of their young alive,
before the marauding magpie predators arrive.
The blue tits and sparrows singing away with glee
have occupied the tall, blooming, mock orange tree
Having a feast from off the prolific huge white flowers
must be quite tasty then they’ve been singing there for hours