You visit in the early morn.
Your note chill
Sends a thrill
Through man and mouse.

The house
Is quiet.
Only your cry forlorn
Does warn.
Disquiet
Carrying from the Lawns.

A mere bird
Yet your voice heard
Down the long years
Inspires fears
And seers
Grey
Fortell a dismal day.

—

The Lawns is an historic park situated close to my home in Upper Norwood, (http://www.londongardensonline.org.uk/gardens-online-record.asp?ID=CRO040).-