Poem

In the silver birch,
Restless flittering, constant chirruping:
Young coal tits’ lunchtime!

Swooping, circling, turning, tumbling,
Soaring silhouettes in dusky gold sky –
Swifts at sunset.

There they were, on the path in front of me,
Cheerfully splashing in a muddy pool:
Two unknown birds, just challenging me to
Identify them.

On the last day of March,
The first warm day of Spring,
She awakens.

In every other tree
A robin sings
Territorially,
Assertively
Staking his claim,
His right to be
Right here
In this tree.

David wrote…
One thing have I asked,
One thing do I seek:
To dwell in God’s presence,
All the days of my life,
To gaze on his beauty,
To listen to his voice.
Only one thing matters.

I met an aged apple farmer
Busy with his work,
His face was gnarled and weather beaten
Like apple-tree bark.

A time of joy, a time of pain,
A baby girl born,
And passed away,
In just one day.