There is a precious thing I know,
A chaffinch that I heard,
For in the wood I walked below
That fragile little bird...
And as I walked a few steps more,
That bird kept close to me,
Yes, even me, a man so poor
I lived in poverty...
That bird knew nothing of my plight,
So was he lonely, too?
You see, that bird kept me in sight,
As if the thing to do...
I whistled and I chirped along
To imitate his voice,
For I felt hope lived in his song,
As if he chose that choice...
And so we travelled in that wood,
Content like we were friends,
I walked back to my neighbourhood,
Was that where friendship ends?
I only know that from that day,
Each chaffinch charms me still,
Such that I whistle on my way
And guess I always will...
Denis Martindale April 2017.
A poem based on the magnificent Stephen Gayford
wildlife painting. Google search phrases
gayford prints and Stephen Gayford poetry
and also for Heaven and Earth Designs...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem