Indie Scribe Magazine March 2014 | Page 45

The Wren..........

On dawns early breeze does fly

Wings shimmer in a cloudless sky,

Over sycamores to perch nearby

To where feeding grounds belie,

In the undergrowth crisp and dry

Tethered morsels catch its eye,

Swoops down from treetops high

To eat the spider and the butterfly.