The kingfisher knocks to call me
friend of you I do beg
make some time from poetry
find me a place to lay an egg.

My nuggets of small oval white
where to put them kind soul
where to find one good site
on some wall a small hole.

This summer the ponds are dry
my eyes are weary with watch
futile my desperate try
to pull out my hunger's catch.

Now I hardly ever sing
hold a mouthful in the beak
dying is the blue on my wing
I'm growing lean and weak.

Friend make a try to save me
our habitats are on the shrink
make some time from poetry
save us from falling over the brink.

The kingfisher knocks on my door
of you friend I do beg
if you want to see us anymore
find me a place to lay an egg.