She Feeds the Birds
Each morning she feeds the birds,
Bright and early without a word.
She loves her little creatures,
Once I even took some pictures.
She was gently holding one,
As if it was her very own.
She even talks openly to them,
While they sit, listening on limbs.
Some will gather around her feet,
For her voice sounds so sweet.
Her face lights up, brightly,
While she walks so lightly;
Through many beautiful birds,
That now, has gathered in a herd -
To greet this fine, gentle lady,
That has a breakfast all ready;
For her fine, feathered friends,
Seeing them always makes her grin;
And for her they will, gladly sing,
Sweetly, like a lovely gale wind.
Copyright © Carol B Tyre | Year Posted 2007
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