To A Bullfinch

Oh bullfinch bird unfettered wild and free Piping on branch of leafy alder tree Lit by the bright and warming sun of May You do seem happy on this pleasant day Were I a poet I'd write for you a lay A lyric that might last till amen day A poem a poet would feel quite proud to write And school goer would feel happy to recite Were I an artist your picture I would draw A masterpiece that art critic dare find flaw A painting far too splendid to ignore That well might last five hundred years or more. But I'm no artist nor neither am I poet Since doggerel is all I've ever wrote And what I'd give to desribe you in words One of the fairest of all wildborn birds. You've got strong beak designed for cracking seeds That you find on hedgerows bordering green meads And you wear the colours favoured most by kings Dark head, pink breast and beautiful blue wings. The lark, the thrush and blackbird sing more sweet As a singing bird with them you can't compete But beauty wise you do look number one When lit by rays of brightly glowing sun.