Birds at Breakfast

My lawn has flowered,

and the flowers gone to seed;

and a flock of tiny, little, twitty birds

has come to grace the lawn;

and there’s a feeding frenzy ongoing.

A perch steady on a blade of grass,

A pretty beak held out to trap

the long stalk of grassy seed,

and to pull tiny seed off like a rake,

right into the beak to swallow and taste.

In tiny, silent, pretty gorge

as each a tendril of seed brings down;

to harvest with beak a once go over.

Birds at breakfast, my lawn the table set,

A bountiful banquet, for all and sundry

©GayUganda 19 Nov. 07