![\"\"](\"https:\/\/olioweb.me.uk\/spence\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/11\/blackbird-calling-e1636117435831-1024x1013.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Summer at last as flowers bloom, and trees turn envious green.
\nBirds, fallen from cramping nests, call parents hardly seen.<\/p>\n
In morning dew, our ruffled guests stand, waiting by the door.
\nA breakfast call, with hungry birds already asking us for more.<\/p>\n
Under the bushing rose, a baby blackbird pipes an urgent trill,
\nmother blackbird opens her full beak, so he can have his fill.<\/p>\n
Sparrows fight, too many for the table, causing seed to fall;
\nFat pigeons, waiting just below, make sure they catch it all.<\/p>\n
Martins wheeling down the street, back to raise their young,
\nswoop in under our eaves, where all the old nests hung.<\/p>\n
This annual performance tells us, we are one with them;
\nnature’s calls are ours, as from necessity they stem.<\/p>\n
We are dependent on each other, despite competing claims,
\nto feed our families, create a future, our perennial aims.<\/p>\n
As evening comes, and welcome rest, a serenade begins;
\na solo rooftop thrush, sings the fading sun his hymns.<\/p>\n