The Yellowhammer

[puddleshark.livejournal.com]

When shall I see the white-thorn leaves agen,
And yellowhammers gathering the dry bents
By the dyke side, on stilly moor or fen,
Feathered with love and nature's good intents?
Rude is the tent this architect invents,
Rural the place, with cart ruts by dyke side.
Dead grass, horse hair, and downy-headed bents
Tied to dead thistles—she doth well provide,
Close to a hill of ants where cowslips bloom
And shed oer meadows far their sweet perfume.
In early spring, when winds blow chilly cold,
The yellowhammer, trailing grass, will come
To fix a place and choose an early home,
With yellow breast and head of solid gold.

Comments

[simone-remy.livejournal.com]

Lovely! Just right for the weather- when winds blow chilly cold! :)

[puddleshark.livejournal.com]

It's perfect for this time of year, isn't it? I love how the lingering bleakness of winter - dead grass, chilly cold winds - is contrasted with the promise of spring - nests feathered with love, sun-yellow birds and flowers...

[simone-remy.livejournal.com]

Mmm the golden yellow of the sun - and I've never even seen a yellowhammer, wonderful observation- thanks again

[go-teen-angst.livejournal.com]

Oh, I love this. Thank you for posting it.

[puddleshark.livejournal.com]

You're welcome!