The Dead Blackbirds Poem by Francis Duggan

The week old nesting blackbirds in their nest have died
'Twas the will of Nature their fate to decide
They died of thirst since the food their parents brought them was too dry
Whilst the warm lamp of Nature glowed brightly in the sky.

Blow flies attracted to their nest by the smell of decay
Are buzzing around in the heat of the day
Their parents are building a new nest nearby
At raising a family again they will try.

The death of the would be minstrels of the Spring
Next year in the garden less birds for to sing
At least they did die in the natural way
That Nature herself in their lives had the say.

Their father is whistling on the bushes near
His voice so familiar melodious and clear
He has a new territory and nest to defend
In the breeding Season his mate his one friend.

Though their parents to raise them tried their very best
Three nestling week old blackbirds lay dead in their nest
The blow flies their tiny eggs on them will lay
And their deaths will give life for that is Nature's way.