On Monday, December 14th, I watched with delight as my backyard birds took advantage of the warm water birdbath. It was so fun to watch and I wanted to share that moment with someone...anyone, but I was all alone. I tried to capture what I felt and thought by putting it into the rigourous poetic form of the sonnet. Enjoy!
A white quilt of snow covering the ground.
Freshly filled birdbath with water so warm.
Sparrows and Finches and Juncos abound.
Drinking first, the chief finch, as is the norm.
Up he hops…sips…hops left…then sips again.
Each satisfying sip, downed with pleasure.
“It feels so good…I think I’ll just jump in!”
Exciting others, “He’s found a treasure!”
Wings a-flickin’, rump waggin’, droplets flung.
A thorough drenching of his crimson face.
Up for some sun…his bathing song is sung.
The young white-crown anxious to take his place.
In it springs, splashing water everywhere.
With such a scene erasing every care.