The Sparrows

Mating under cover

thats the  Sparrow and his mate

his black bib gives his game away

masculinity, feels great

in Autumn he may lose it

his bib may up and go

moulting does things for a man

and in Winter it may show

I can  see into the Rosemary

being blasted by the  sun

searching through its tangled roots

to  watch  the Sparrows having fun

amongst the woody  root stock

above,  the  purple flowers

there they play apparently

and,  remain there for  hours

one wonders what they talk about

whether the seeds are sweer

whether they know i am watching them

from my window seat

the rugged woody undergrowth

i see it everywhere

Spring is boosting buds and growth

and is warming up the air

a canopy of  sunlight blue

the  crow boys on the Beech

picking out their ebony clothes

but still so out of reach

the branches have a silvery glow

into each lacey sphere

wildlife is so close to  me

it is  something to revere.

daffodile in contrast

upright to the sky

behold the canny trumpets

Their music on a high

gold and white and salmon

every blooming hue

a backdrop for Springs wonderment

the  Narcissi so true