Bird Poems

And frightful to the weavers, it gives them a scare.

A red blushing face looks out at me,

And then I turn around and a yellow face do I see.

To humans, In the wild, these birds are fairly rare,

But as for the weavers, the smell is in the air.

They imagine it’s long legs, they imagine it’s barred breast.

It’s scary to them, but humans are impressed.

We’re impressed by their courage, we’re impressed by their power

But as long as he is near, the weavers give fright for the hour.

It’s a large broad winged hawk, a majestic queen,

But as it flies away it’s a blushing Gymnogene.