To the ones who stay
(After the martins have gone and Mahler continues to play)
Up on the wire they congregate
A few left ‘We’re already late’ . . .
The Jackdaws are the ones who stay
They watch their nest holes every day
They gaze at empty chimney holes
Then grub about for lifeless voles
Reflecting on this Spring’s success
They sneer at all the seagull mess
Forced in between the chimney tops
The clearing up there never stops
They rest where once they croaked and crept
When gulls defended chicks that slept
Perplexed that Autumn brings release
That empty nests mean rooftop peace
They sun themselves and bend their wings
Their brains still full of magic things
They know their nest is safe and dry
Within our walls where wind won’t fly
That through the winter months we’ll stay
As vigilant and calm as they
That if they swoop they’re sure to sound
Out something tasty on the ground
They peer across the cable line
Their job accomplished one more time
Pleased with the sun whose late warmth flings
Substantial rays on parting wings
But not for them the southern way
For Jackdaws are the ones who stay.
The Sparrows too are ones who stay
Their endless chatter fills the day
As busy now as in the spring
Ferocity in everything
A swelling crowd both front and back
Their chirruping an awesome craic
Full lives and bellies everyday
No one can take success away
These dress-down omnipresent mates
A Winterful of warmth awaits
Though commonplace and so more known
Than those who’ve felt the chill and flown
Ancestral as this home must feel
Its every corner cranny real
They eye the empty eaves again
Their policy against the rain
They note the muddy nests they’ll fill
With next year’s brood if Nature will
Gossiping endlessly their way
A stand they simply won’t betray.
Woodpigeons could not choose to go
This is the simplest life they know
Their lumpen thoughts and lumpen ways
Need cosy lives and routine days
Their wings could never take their weight
To fly so far or follow fate
The greyness of this sky reflects
The silver blue about their necks
This is their countryside and here
They take their chances year by year
With Wren and Starlings leaning hard
They fight and forage in the yard
Tits too emerge again to feed
They have here everything they need
As much our friendship as supplies
They have no wish to cross the skies
They settle for what God may bring
As creatures all together cling
In wind and weather ‘til the Spring.
Losses are what we cannot bear
To know that they are over there
Somewhere we cannot understand
A different sun a different land
Where like our children now set free
They live their lives in liberty
So let his music fill the space
Where we once watched them soar with grace
Beloved birds we wait to see
What graceful serendipity
Brings that May moment when we heard
The chuckling of our favourite bird
Again . . .
This morning one or two still fly
But this time in a wintry sky
Reminding us they too will go
And leave us sad down here below
Filling the bowls twice every day
For all the homely ones who stay.
mr pip ponders 
very lovely poem,
written from the heart
Thank you so much, Eddie. Kemo Sabe was so sad as we wrote it together. pip