Birdies

Fluffy little birdies,
Eating berries from a vine.
Bright-red berries showing,
That come with Autumn-time.

Out there on the branches,
There is a rush of wings.
Busy little bodies,
Happy little things.

Singing in a clutter,
Mostly up-side down.
Little feathered beauties,
With a gorgeous crown.

Little croplets bulging,
Where their craving feeds.
Hungry for a morsel,
To satisfy their needs.

Bright red-berries dangling,
Brilliant like a gem.
Just to feed the birdies,
That scuffle on the stem.


E.P. 1908 - 1989