An island raised in the lake
With birds of every kind;
For resting and to launch from
Along the bank they’re lined.
Some hunkered down in the dust,
Eyes closed with feathers spread;
Coloured brown or lustre green,
Some different shades of red.
A Goose it struts upon the grass,
Head raised in knowing look;
Ignoring other feathered types
And the swooping Rook.
The children whoop and chuckle
As they spread the bread around;
Birds rush to get their share,
Leaving that island mound.
This haven of tranquillity,
Gives pleasure through each year;
For creatures of the air to nest,
Then younger ones appear.
Monty Alexander 16.3.97