Seo agus Siud  Edition 10 April 2021            

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Draw back curtains, lace and blinds,
The newborn blackbird to find
Tottering onwards into life, 
Alert to threats and countless strife.

Magpie soaring overhead
Scans the ground for juicy bread
Spots the fragile baby chick, 
Swoops with might to have her pick.
Oh! Och! Och! I'm terrified!
So is my beloved bird.
Shouts and screeches! 
Parents cry
Save their babe from magpie's eyes! 

Baby chick delights to sit,
Jumps and trots a little bit,
Flits and hides in greenly aisle,
Opens wide her yellow beak, 
Worms fine she savours sweet,
Satisfied on mother’s wine
Preens and cleans her fluffy plume
Wonder will she take off soon.

Fly to other lands afar,
Way from this protective pad
Hydrangea, ivy, clover bed,
Place where she is richly fed
Out o'er wall and roof- tile high
To reach above to blue grey sky,
She will one day gloriously fly,
Meet that magpie, jackdaws too, 
Her own grand life she will pursue.


Fly to other lands afar,
Way from this protective pad
Hydrangea, ivy, clover bed,
Place where she is richly fed
Out o'er wall and roof- tile high
To reach above to blue grey sky,
She will one day gloriously fly,
Meet that magpie, jackdaws too, 
Her own grand life she will pursue.

Oh but how I'll miss her so,
As to other fields she flows,
Missing her contented look 
Sitting on the stony nook.
I did watch her many moods
Listened to her fragile coos,
Gazed at all her tricky rues,
Amid the glittering foliage hue,

Now no more her presence here
 Her bright yellow striking bill
Chirps and shrills no longer fill
This home of greens and greys
Left without her brightly cheer.

So farewell my blackbird dear
Tilting, cycling, gliding by 
Soar about in heavenly spheres
To your mansions in the sky.


This poem grew out of my total fascination last May with a newly hatched blackbird which spent five  days sheltering and roaming in my back yard and garden. Her parents were constantly visiting with  earthworms and she sure was always ready for them. On her first day out a magpie pounced but the little fledging managed to hide in the undergrowth and the parents came rushing to the rescue. On day six there was so sign of the fledgling and I hoped she had taken flight beyond the wall and garden.  But alas no. Two days later I came on her dead body lying in the dark earth. She had obviously been weak, maybe injured and unable to make it. Sad!

That's life! Sadness and joy intermingled. Máire Cannon

Companion

                 A poem Máire Cannon wrote while cocooning last May

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