The Wild Birds

Looking for food up country and down
Drought has brought hundreds of birds into town
Strolling in the garden on a hot Spring day
I watched a flight of mouse birds at their play.

They chatted as they flew from tree to tree
The noisiest birds you ever did see
High in a bamboo two weavers built a nest
Flying up more twigs after each short rest.

Two hoopoes flew in after an absence of a season
And were joined by three ravens for some strange reason
A golden oriole sang in a tall Msasa tree
A flash of yellow colour was all I could see.

In the bird baths dozens of mannikins splashed
While doves and crows on the parched lawns clashed
Toppies drank and flew on their way
To be followed by a thrush, the first that day.

Then just for a minute on their onward flight
Two white tick birds in the garden did alight
And keeping a watch on tiny ones and tall
Our resident butcher bird boss of them all.

So while plants and flowers die with increasing measure
The wild birds provide us with endless pleasure.

From the collection - RHODESIAN REVERIE
Memories by Robert Heinrich Percival Cornell
Contributed by his grandson Rob Staniland
Email : Rob Staniland