He nods his little head in the wind
It gets lower every day
But he will help out so many
Though it doesn't seem that way.
His seeds will be used, you see
For the birds that come this way
Or they will be salted and then baked
And the family will munch away.
But the exciting thing to me is that
It was a bird who planted this seed
He took it from the feeder
And dropped it in the weeds.
I plan to cut him off and hang him up
Once dried the seeds will be used
To me nature again provided
It should never, ever be abused.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem