The Starlings

It was freezing cold in the bright farmhouse
As I tiptoed outside quiet as a mouse.
There on the lawn enjoying an early feast
A flight of black starlings twenty feet at least
The cold wind blowing from the South
Tore at my eyes, my ears and my mouth.
Through drifting clouds flashes of early sun
Inspired the birds to riotous fun.
As they hopped here and there in the happiest of moods
For the gods had provided a variety of foods.

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