Where once I thought I’d never see
A lonely waxwing in my cherry tree,
Not only one, but six delight,
In berry-picking, morn ’til night!
The robin’s not inclined to share,
Now her days are filled with care,
But waxwings won’t give up the fight,
They’ll strip the tree, e’er they take flight.
Meanwhile I sit and enjoy the scene,
As between them all, my tree’s picked clean.
(pictures to follow)
Filled me with glee. Now there’s three–
Ornithol oh gee!
Winter we add it;
In summer we subtract it.
(A humid ditty).