The Goldcrests Poem by Francis Duggan

The goldcrests come into the farmyard in Winter
When woods are bare and frosted fields are gray
And around the dung heap search for tiny insects
With feathers fluffed to keep the cold away.

From their tiniest of birdlife bodies
Compared to small birds they seem even small
Ornithologists claim that of the small birds of Europe
The goldcrests are the tiniest of all.

The goldcrests from once seen can't be mistaken
Dark gray wings, green back and golden stripe on crown
Familiar to the rural groves and woodlands
And never once seen in the rural town.

On Winter nights when i was out bird spotting
With aid of spotlight i so often see
A pair of goldcrest sleeping close together
On lower branch of sheltery cypress tree.

The only birds that slept so close together
Perhaps it is their way of keeping warm
To keep the warmth in their tiny bodies
Through long dark nights of cold and wet and storm.

In Winter when the woods by winds are ravaged
And the frosted fields at morning looking gray
The goldcrests on the farmyard dung heap searching
For their life sustaining tiny insect prey.







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