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Tom Balch
Poems
Apr 2016
Birdsong
The day started with birdsong
somewhere in the far distance
of my sleepy half conscious state.
Trying hard to pull myself from this
deep slumber into the new day
is a fight I think I maybe loosing.
I yawn and stretch my way onto
the terrace half blinded by the morning
sunshine but gloved in its warmth.
The hills look so beautiful and lush
dotted with white houses and cortijos
randomly nestled between the olive trees.
The Martins are following red leader
one in their amazing aerobatics around the
red tiled rooftops and terracotta chimneys.
The sky is a blue that Dulux blues can
only dream of being and the absence of
clouds only adds to the days beauty.
My eyes follow a buzzing wasp that is
searching for whatever it is that will make
his day, and I sip my tea enjoying the sun.
The day continues with bird song, sunshine
and that... itΒ΄s great to be alive feeling,
think IΒ΄ll put it all into words.
Written by
Tom Balch
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383
Paul Hansford
,
winter sakuras
,
---
and
Chris G Vaillancourt
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