Amazing bird poetry, written by our customers…

Who knew we had such poets in our midst? In fact, we're so happy with the comments put on our favourite British bird competition that we thought it a good idea to post all the poems produced by our customers. Perhaps we can even create a special 'poet's corner' on the blog for any future bird poems. Please enjoy, and post any more poems should you feel inspired by this obvious yet latent talent.

Little Jenny Wren she is so proud,
She loves to sing and is quite loud,
With tail erect and bobbing too,
I’m sure she sings just for me and you.

The robin sitting on my spade
Has to be the best God made
The red so bright upon his breast
Gives so much joy and life of zest

The small dumpy
Wren with its
Bellowing song,
Cocked and ready
He prances along

Little robin redbreast
Sitting on a twig
Happy singing in the sun
Dreaming of flying to far-away places

There was a young bird called Robin
Who hops like he’s bobbing,
He jumps on my spade
To show his chest that never fades
A sight to see when I am bird spotting

What do I see when that red breast comes in sight? A friend,
who comes uninvited and yet is the most welcome of guests,
who makes me smile and colours a colourless day.

Of all the birds in my garden
I love the magpie best.
Strutting about in his French waiters garb,
He outshines all the rest.
Some think he’s plain
In black and white,
But on closer inspection you’ll see
He is green and purple and blue, so bright
That he dazzles the eye a bit
I love him – but I am a six foot man
And not a baby tit.

With your vervant colours of red and gold
the joy you give must be told
thank you for visiting our garden so green
your beautiful plumage must be seen

I’m awakened every morning
By a chorus of delight
And at dusk I’m serenaded
What a way to say goodnight
As you might have guessed the blackbird
Is the one that gets my vote
He has attitude and presence
He just doesn’t miss a note
I provide the food and water
And a friendly habitat
In return sweet sounding music
Now, one can’t complain at that

My favourite bird is the Wren
Who bounces up, down and back again
He plays in my garden everyday
Watching him takes my cares away
My favourite friend does make me smile
I do hope that he can stay for a good long while!

My favourite British bird?
Well that’s an easy one to say
The Wren of course it has to be
Favourite of my Mum and me.
Now Mum has had a nasty trip
And broken a bone, just near her hip
She’s in some pain and not at home
So I tell her about her garden on the phone
But for a glimpse of her favourite bird
She will try to walk, or so I’ve heard
So in her garden the Wren might roam
And encourage my Mum to get back home!

Three robins in my garden
I treat them with respect
They seem so happy and contended
When fed with garden wildlife direct

This British bird is overlooked,
It hides in canines, nooks and crooks,
It may be shy – I do not know
But I love to see it come and go.
It’s feathers are a dull mixed brown
But it’s song never lets it down!
It comes the garden again and again
It’s my favourite – the fabulous wren!

I wake up in the morning and view my garden with keenness
I hear your singing call, you’re a great tit with amazing sweetness
Your yellow feathers and black head, so beautiful and graceful
You stick with your mate constantly, which is so cute and so tasteful
oh I wish you’d stay and nest as you did last year
Maybe you’ve moved on to next door coz they’re serving beer

Upon my fence the Blackbird sits
Singing his merry song.
A distant song replies to him
Waiting to feed their young.

My favourite garden bird
Is it a chattering or a song I heard?
A flash of black and a yellow streak
A little red face and a pale white beak
Pretty and all but a few square inch
Yes you’ve guessed – mine is a Gold Finch

Blackbird blackbird glossy black and now you’re going grey,
You bring us so much happiness
When you call on us each day.
You work so hard, your days are long
And still you sing your evening song
Oh blackbird how we love you!

This Finch flies like butterfly and sings like a bee
It’s a rarely seen bird and somewhat sedentary
With its black head and.sitting on a low bough
The redbreast glows more than a rainbow

The wren is a tiny brown bird that is not beautifully coloured
But has the sweetest song.
If you are lucky enough to be able to hear it just sit and enjoy
The wonderful song

Oh pretty bird with a hint of pink
Of shy modesty to make you think
Took me a while to recognise it
The sissing sound of the long-tailed tit

Cuckoos & sparrows
blue tits & wrens,
come into my garden & sit on my fence
Starlings & Chaffinch
Robins & Doves
Your beauty is endless & so is our love.

The robin is a cheeky bird
With the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard
while digging the weeds he’ll be by your side
and stick his chest out with pleasure and pride
the food that you give him he eats with delights
he’s a beautiful bird, a wonderful sight.

seldom seen
often heard
the wren is my favourite bird,
a powerful voice
loud and clear
you hear her song throughout the year

I am not a poet ,
but I am full of wit
my Favourite Bird
is the little blue tit