When we garden or put out washing,
Watching us just out of reach,
Wary, yes, but not afeared.
Seed-queen's next, the coast is clear,
She's perched close by, the bold one's mate,
Well rounded, sleek of feather,
Precious eggs to make and young to raise.
Meanwhile, Garden Scout's away,
Checking out new places, eyes darting,
For new-found food to tell,
Avoiding cat below and hawk above.
Wily old Four-winters sees,
As many times before,
Where danger lurks in bush and shrub,
Approaches slowly, grey of wing.
Swift young Crumb-prince dashes by,
Unheedful of the feline foe,
But today it's curled asleep indoors,
Morsels safely taken in the beak.
Others follow, a village-flock arrives,
In hopping waves from fence to post and tree -
Peck-your-head who fights and bickers,
Dust-keen bathes and flutters in the dry,
Twig-maiden seeks a nest to fill,
One-foot and half-tail, still alive,
At last the fledglings, as yet un-named,
Taught how to bathe and where to feed.
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