She builds her nest
In the time of spring
And then to find a
mate
She must patiently
sing
Chaffinch sing your
song
So charmingly
From your high branch
She builds her nest
In the time of spring
And then to find a
mate
She must patiently
sing
Chaffinch sing your
song
So charmingly
From your high branch
The seeds of love move
Wind-blown in the
breeze
And settle on fertile
ground
To germinate in
willing hearts
The chanticleer herald,
Cockerel strutting
proud
Crowing to the dawn
With voice Clear and
loud
The bees are busy on the moor
Among the purple
heather
The birds are on the
wing
Enjoying the clement
weather
The most perfect place
For we two birds of a
feather
But it holds no
pleasure
Now we are no longer
together
Honeysuckle hedges
Line the fence
Banks of Purple
columbine
Catch the morning sun
Beds of scented roses
Beside a manicured
lawn
Herbaceous borders
trimmed
By neat rows of
annuals
Clematis climbs the
trellis
Amidst the well-groomed
shrubbery
There’s so much more
Than stocks and
hollyhocks
In an English country
garden
Devoid of jesses
Or strips of leather
Birds of prey
Fly off the tether
As God intended
The Falcon and the Hawk
Patrol the land
AS for prey they stalk
Heralding an approaching storm
Lightening lit the far
horizon
As thunder rumbled
Around the valley
Then louder and louder
it grew
Closer and closer it
came
Until it was overhead
And the house shook
With the power of the
thunder clap
And Jagged ribbons of
light
Struck the earth
Then almost as quickly
As its thunderous
arrival
It moved off into the
distance
Up on the Moor
The birds take flight
On the glorious 12th
They leave the hill
With a bevy of Grouse
The trappings of
wealth
As the lengthening days warm up
When the north is on
the cusp
The ice begins to
speak or sing
Heralding the arrival
of spring
Sweet memories of our childhood
Sunny days bright and
pleasant
Cold crisp Novembers
on the heath
Beating the bracken
for the Pheasant
Sweet memories of our childhood
Those days of youth
were the best
Golden Septembers in
the fields
Gathering the bounty
of the harvest
In shades of red and orange
The sky burns with
fire
Clouds in sunset are
illuminated
Like smoke in a
funeral pyre
As streaks of gold appear in the western sky
I look into her
hypnotic green eyes and sigh
With her in my arms
and romance in my heart,
As the sunset glowed,
I vowed we’d never part
The sun bursts through the curtains
As dawn brings forth
another day
And bids us waken from
our rest
With every golden
warming ray
Heaven sent April showers
Will bring the May
flowers
And after spring has
begun
Soon comes the summer
sun
There they go round the mulberry bush,
Showing their bush,
Showing their bush,
There they go round the mulberry bush,
On a cold and frosty morning.
Illuminated sunset clouds, lit
Like smoke in a
funeral pyre
In red and orange
shades
As the sky burns with
fire
Nature gifted us with the snowy owl
Who on majestic wings
takes flight
In the Arctic regions
of the North
Hunting its prey both
day and night
In the dewy winter meadow
I watch the dawn’s
first rays
Beginning to evaporate
the mist
In the majesty of winter
days
Beneath azure blue skies
Beside a silent pool
A bird sings in the
stillness
Its sweet song
drifting
On the lemon scented
breeze
As evening approached
Leaves like tongues of fire
Set the scene ablaze
Kenya’s Flame trees
Burning bright in
paradise
The fierce summer
gales
Howl all through the night
Whipping up the seas
And turning wave tops white
The poor souls at sea
On the dark summer night
In the teeth of the tempest
Feel it’s savage bite
And pray to their gods
To save them from their plight
As the gale blows through
On the dark summer night
In the dewy summer meadow
I watch the dawn’s
first rays
Beginning to evaporate
the mist
In the majesty of summer
days
The fierce spring gales
Howl all through the night
Whipping up the seas
And turning wave tops white
The poor souls at sea
On the dark spring night
In the teeth of the tempest
Feel it’s savage bite
And pray to their gods
To save them from their plight
As the gale blows through
On the dark spring night
In the dewy spring meadow
I watch the dawn’s
first rays
Beginning to evaporate
the mist
In the majesty of the
spring days
In a river, barely worthy of the name,
Where the gentle water
trickles back
Towards a greater
watery world,
Lives the humble
little stickleback
In a country lane
Where the noise of a highway
Is thought too
fanciful
A wagon carries bales
of hay
As the farmer heads
home
At the end of the day
Beneath the grey skies
In the crisp morning
air
An overconfident fox
Chases after a march
Hare
An Oak, tall as a cathedral spire
Cast a mighty shadow
As the setting of the
sun
Turns the western sky
to fire
Above the horizon
The beauty of a
sunrise,
Slowly emerges and
Illuminates the sky
And as it spreads into the morn
It burns red on the calm water
As a cool pleasant breeze
Drifts gently across
the bay
The narwhale lived year-round
In the Arctic waters
around
Greenland, Canada, and
Russia
Along with its cousin
the Beluga
The narwhale males
fished
The waters, and are distinguished
With its long straight
helical horn
Like a predatory arctic
unicorn
The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...