A little something I wrote a few spring evenings ago

This Evening Show by Andrew Huyton

 

Silver jacketed Jackdaws,

Parade in the evening sun.

As twittering tireless swallows,

Sweep over golden butter-cupped fields.

 

Where young rabbits roam,

Among laughing leaping lambs,

While Curlew's mournfully cry,

Joining springs evening symphony.

 

Conducted by the wind,

Leaves and flowers dance,

As the warblers build to a crescendo,

A pheasant shouts out from the crowd,

Arresting briefly the flight of my mind.

 

A LEO lolls silently over the moor,

The Lion of the skies creeping ever closer to

Its quarry,

A quaking vole dare not breathe,

For fear it will be its last.

 

A Rouzel stands proudly displaying a white halo

Like a military ribbon on his breast.

Insects and creatures of the soil flee,

As he leads an army of Mistle Thrush and

Blackbird striding across the battlefield

 

Down by the stream grey wagtails play,

While cheekily flashing yellow underwear,

A Dipper dives embarrassed under the fast flowing water

And in catching my eye my mind pauses once more.

 

A gentle breeze ushers me on,

And as I near the lake the conductor,

Hails the soloist Lark from on high.

 

Then the drumming of a snipe and

The flute of the sandpiper,

As it tip toes on the shore,

Carefully out of the reach of the clawing

Fingers of lapping waves.

 

And as the light fades,

Like a falling curtain

Skeins of trumpeting geese drift in

To hail the end of this evening show.

Singing Goldcrest

Singing Goldcrest