GRANDMOM’S BIRDBATH

In the early morning hours when the sun turns big and bright,

Birds and beasties leave their nests to wash away the night.

They peek out from the bushes; they jump from tree to tree.

They fly up on the rooftops to see what they can see.

Ah! There it sits upon a stump, with water clear and cool.

It’s Grandmom’s granite birdbath sparkling like a jewel

The Bluebird jumps in first and shakes each glossy feather,

What fun he has to wash away the dust from wind and weather.

Next come two bushy, playful squirrels that live up in her tree.

They race each other to the bath and watch the Bluebird flee.

Like little imps they jump and splash in Grandmom’s water bowl

While Blackbirds, cawing loudly, holler and cajole.

Soon Robins dunk their rosy breasts to take their morning shower,

While Catbirds scolding mightily, dance on their leafy bower.

Then Blue Jays, noisier than all, swoop down, in threes and fours,

To claim the crystal water, their reflections to adore.

Soon, in among the marigolds, they spread their fresh washed wings

And warm them in the morning sun, while all of nature sings.

Grandmom’s birdbath is the host to Wrens and Chickadees,

To Humming Birds with bright green wings, and even buzzy bees.

Her garden is a perfect place and gives the greatest pleasure

To all God’s creatures big and small, and even me to treasure.

When I grow up and have a yard, I’ll place a birdbath there,

When birds and beasties come to bathe, I’ll know God heard my prayer.