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Wrens
 
He, when gardening,
left his spade
upright in a mound he'd made;


where earthworms seethed,
a writhing clump in rich moist soil
so pink and plump.


See tiny wren with perky tail,
blue uniform
of show-off male.


A veritable feast he's found,
free for the picking
in fresh-turned ground.


He, raising a sweet piping voice,
invites his mate
to make her choice.


Here Jenny comes,
a dull dun brown,
to the garden flitters down.


Each tiny wren selects the best,
then flies;
the two must have a nest.




By cherryk

© 2017 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with fyahphoenix (Malissa) read page for specific rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with fyahphoenix (Malissa) read page for specific rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with fyahphoenix (Malissa) read page for specific rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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