With His Chest Ablaze Poem by David Wood

He has the sweetest note you'll ever hear
From dawns soft glow and early dew
To sunset's hues when nighttime's near
Where he takes his rest without much ado.

And in this world of gloom and strife,
In those cold short winter days,
With bitter winds that cut like a knife,
He'll sing from a twig with his chest ablaze.

You'll see him sing in all kinds of weather
A cheerful song, that's always heaven blest.
And now and then he'll rustle a feather
Then fly off as quick as a flash to his nest.