Robin

Cheeky, chirping little bird!
Feeding from the tray.
Your voice is often clearly heard
throughout the autumn day.

 

With agile speed you fly around
from tree to bush to fence.
With raucous energy you abound
continually on the defense.

 

Your territory needs a constant guard
Less other robins invade.
Sometimes you must find it really hard
to feed, patrol and parade.

 

And parade you do! So smart and neat.
And you know just how to pose.
On a fence or a wall, to twitter and tweet;
your presence to impose.

 

Twitter away, my little friend.
You brighten up my day.
During winter months, we all depend
on you, our sunniest ray!
DF2007

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Gate-keeper

I hear your protests, abrasive and rasping.
I hear the pain as you helplessly slam
against fence posts and frame, with no chance of grasping
a hold, as the edges you scrape with each ram.

 

Your voice is creaky, yet strident and bold,
Your hinges, subservient to an invisible force
give unbidden freedom, with nothing to hold
or secure you . They jarringly grate their remorse.

 

The wind is relentless, blustery, gusting.
gathering pace, then subsiding to rest
before once again buffeting hinges, rusting
from weather and use, their metal to test.

 

Creaking and squeaking in a strange dance gyrating
reminiscent of a ritual, the old rite of spring.
Powerless to resist, reluctantly conjugating
in a pairing, guaranteed to force you to swing.

 

Your latch is impotent, it’s attempts quite fruitless
when thrashed with such speed, intimacy denied.
You lack an attachment, momentarily rootless
as your body, no inhibitions, is ceremoniously flung wide.

 

The wind howls and screeches, altering pitches
to suit it’s ferocity, as it charges your frame.
You are helpless; with weird sirens it easily bewitches
and you accede to it’s will, as if only a game.

 

Oscillating, swinging, continuous momentum,
The wind is fickle as it lulls and then pounces.
venting it’s anger and spleen infinitum,
unforgiving and hostile, my negligence trounces.

 

The duet is interrupted and transmutes to one voice.
Eventually the wind will lose strength and abate.
Procrastination is dangerous. When given a choice,
act quickly; close gates; avoid ill winds of fate.

©DF2007

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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