VOTED BEST POEM 2015 FROM THE UK

A BLUE BIRD SANG TO ME

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A blue bird

Is what I heard

It sang so sweet

I could see it

It was a blue tit

What was it saying?

And who to

How beautiful that colour so true

A blue bird

Sang to me

High up in my magnolia tree

As there were no other birds in the sky

So what was he singing for, I asked why

To cheer me up

To give me good luck

To warm my heart

For my day to start

A blue bird tweeting 

Berries he had been eating

Who was he hoping to meet?

As that sound of a tweet

Would be such a waste if just for me

High up in my magnolia tree

Who sent him to me?

And what for?

I didn’t expect that when I opened my door

Like crystal water, from a pure glass

That bird did sing to me looking at the dewy grass

Butterflies

Floating around

From the buttercups on the ground

To the bowing branches on my willow

A soft white dove, looking into the sunset so yellow

I could rest on him like a pillow

So soft

He flew from my loft

What was he doing there?

Sent to me so I could share?

Breadcrumbs and seeds

I love watching as they feed

Now in the sky just my blue bird again.

Will he fly off and if so when?

This moment in time

Is absolutely divine

So peaceful

And beautiful

Tranquil

And I feel as though there is a message

Here in my little English village

With chocolate box houses

And ancient churches

Where life nurtures

Pretty bluebells

Snowdrops too

But the most wonderful thing

Is my bird of blue

Whilst on the lake

Are the ducklings and the drake

The white swans

Frequent the park ponds

The little market stalls voices shout

Artists all about

Painting watercolours

So much to offer

Meat fish and other

Bobbins in plenty

Flower buckets are empty

Ladies carry off bunches of them

Whilst eggs are purchased from the hens

Pigs in pens

And goats in chase

This is my village

My home

My place

The old oak tree

Where I played as a child

Where all is calm

Meek and mild

A rope hangs from there

Where we swung without a care

Jumping over the stream

Eating ice-cream

Skimming pebbles

Little rebels

Now I’m older and appreciate life more

Like I’ve been here before

I feel some kind of Deja vu

 Listening to my bird of blue

In my village

There is a spillage

Of blooms in blossom

And a rickety fence

Flowers are efflorescence

Roses with new buds

Red squirrels play in the mud

A gold fox runs across

A leafy lane covered in moss

Mr. Green’s sweetie shop

Where jelly beans and a lolly pop

Can be bought with sugar mice

And next door to him, is The Pepper pot

Where you will find fresh spice

 Then there is Daisy Doo

She will sell bouquets to you

And little tommy tail

Who’s so cute?

He will make your keys

Or fix your boots

Charlie Chopper

With a party popper

Will delight your children’s birthdays

With his magical ways

He will pull a rabbit out from the hat

Then Nanny Norah, you can’t ignore her

She has a black cat

Who, looks in need of a, bola hat?

I can see the wee thing,

With a Dickie bow tie

And a bling ring

A Cheshire smile

Walking along the roof tiles

And Betties tea room

Outside a balloon

With a picture of a china cup

And high on the hill

Right up

There is the village hall

Making our houses look rather small

It’s there where we used to have a dance

The romance taking a chance

Now girls and boys gather

Running through the heather

Racing each other

Sister and brother

Best friends a like

Riding a bike

Or on horseback

Through the dusty track

Where you must be careful

Not to get friendly with the nettles

And enjoy the fragrance

From the wild petals

This is my village

Where I love to indulge

Everyone has friendly neighbours

Who are always pleased to do favours?

 Sitting on their doorstep

Having a good old chat

Bashing their doormat

On the crumbling wall

Pruning the privets

Shaping the conifers, into a ball

Exchanging fresh cauliflowers, for home brewed beer

Where the village wedding, is a community cheer

And the local news heading, is one without fear

This is surreal

What I feel

As a bluebird whistles his tune

It’s like honey given on a spoon

Melted chocolate

And a morning omelette

And evening amber fire

Whatever is your desire?

This is perfection

Right here

Right now

And I don’t know why or how

I am honoured

To be a captive audience

As my concert comes to the end

My blue bird flies to the fence

We exchange a look

He is my new friend

I can’t pretend

I don’t want this to end

But I know

Bird of blue

Will come back, when the ground is covered in snow

When the spring says hello

The summer puts on its hat

And the autumn leaves form a mat

Of golden crunchy coin like shapes

In the evenings afternoons and dawn breaks

My bird of blue will be back

Make no mistakes

He will drink from the lake

Feed from the berries

Where ever he sings

He will make listeners merry

This is my village where I live

Full of promises I want to give

In your world of stress

Full of regrets

Take a moment to enjoy

A decoy

Thank you little bird of blue

For making me realise 

I am so lucky

You were sent to me

To open my eyes

To a world I take for granted

To now acknowledge

The apple tree I planted

To respect my village

And to open my heart to others

Who don’t have such honours

Who see colourless flowers

And smell engines a blaze

Whose views are so polluted

Blankets of haze

Let them come here for some days

Just to see what it’s like

To live in harmony

One big happy family

They will take home

A wonderful memory

And I hope they will return

And we can keep warm whilst coal will burn

And cool with overhanging foliage

Here in my village

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015