Little Bird Voices (a poem)

Little Bird Voices


The little voices of little birds,
that pass the day away
With light steps within my garden,
From branch to branch they leap and sway,
Appear to be cheerful, happy and unraveled
(most of the time) filled with spunk,
And with living life, to its fullest;
I hear them in the light warm sun
(laying about as if on vacation)
Murmuring, chips, and chirps, and buzzes
Croaking’s and songs
I think they’re talking, singing
Begging and a little frightful now and then
as each day goes on—
(kind of like: children)…

A new sparrow, with no back wing
was frozen in fear between
The steps and the
Garden, today; when I was tending
to it, and I just kind of drifted away—
From here to there, allowing it time
To think and escape to a branch near
The nearby Peach Tree! And quick it did.

As the other birds gave peeps, and Israel
The dove, bill snaps, and his mother
And father, bird mating and naps, as
Others did some drumming with their wings
I call it, wing beating, or clapping…

Birds are busy and messy, little creatures
all day long
And they like everything clean,
As I work, and they sing their songs.
But I love to hear their rustles in
the leaves,
Their chips, and chirpings,
and that deep croaking sound,
all those beautiful little bird
Voices, all day long…

No: 2796 (1-19-2010