In gardens lush with green delight,
Where nut-laden feeders stand in sight,
Imagine if, with joyful tweets,
Great tits arrived in grand fleets.
They’d flutter near with vibrant wings,
A chorus of enchanting sings,
Around the feeder, a lively crowd,
Their melodies both clear and loud.
With plumage bright, a feathered show,
A symphony amid the boughs would grow,
Around the nuts, a fluttering dance,
As great tits joined in sweet romance.
Among the blooms and leaves so green,
If sparrows transformed, a sight unseen,
The garden’s tale would take new flight,
With great tits perched in soft twilight.
The Poems I Never Wrote 