Crusted icing sugar and biting cold winds, Brought a hungry speckled cousin here, Surveying from swaying fir branches, On a fruit reconnaissance. Our luscious rosy crabapples, The spoils of pigeon feasts. A few still budded the boughs And signalled precious fare. The blush and grey-capped spy grows brave, And plucks one in its beak. On paper-white ground it pecks and feeds, Before the blackbird cousin charges forth. Four times this game of intrepid fieldfare, Back and forth from foe: The…

She goes down to the cool waters, Sets boats of leaves afloat, She exhales their sails along the top, Of calming reflective pools. She sharply twists the bladed seeds, Watching spirals fall down. She taps the branches of Spring trees, Sending blossoms to the floor. She rings the bluebells in the woods, Peals of dappled light rocking. She puffs the clocks of dandelions, ‘Til small fairies dance about. She is the sprightly nature’s kiss, Who tends to all that’s good,…