I recall the nesting box
On my grandfather’s shed.
Blue Tits laid their eggs.
Some grew, and flew
Away.
January seems dead.
Yet, in the churchyard birds
Sing.
And, come the spring
Birds will lay in boxes
To the delight
Of young children.
And foxes bark
In the depths of night.
K Morris - Poet 
O like this very much!
*I
Thank you, Liz. I’m so pleased you like it!
You’re welcome, Kevin!
Beautifully penned. ❤
Thank you, Penny. I’m delighted you like it. Kevin
Reblogged this on https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
Many thanks for sharing my poem, Michael.
Beautiful, Kevin! xx Michael
Thank you, Michael!