Summer PoemfNature’s Summer People. There are mute swans, down in the wallow, The canal has a few swimming by, And little Moorhens swim along by the barge, Black coots, with their little ones, nigh. Above on a branch, the kingfisher Is watching the glittering fish, His bright turquoise feathers and orange, get wet, When he catches the tastiest dish. No worries, the droplets fly outwards, As he flexes his wings, like a shower, They hang in the sunshine to dry out, Whilst he sits in his summmertime bower. The trees that are shading the tow bank, Are glistening, and dappled with sun, They’re hiding the drowsy old barn owl, Resting before his night fun. Starlings fly over the meadow That borders the fields and the streams, And down in the grass, there lies sleeping, Field mice, and hares having dreams. A slithering sound, like a whisper, Wreathes inside and out of the grass. His harmless meander, his wander, Frights none, as they watch him pass. Soft breezes sigh as the goshawk Flies quietly over the ground, And high in the sky there are swallows, Singing a wonderful sound. As rosehips glisten, and berries Grow ripe on the prickly bough, The squirrel is busy, just gathering, No time to dally, not now. For winter will soon be upon them, The birds and the rabbits and mice, Food will be scarce in the winter, But spring will be here, in a trice. Copyright. Evelyn J. Steward. june 2015

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