The Blue Tit's Nest Poem by Francis Duggan

Some childhood memories with us seem to linger
And I recall when I was nine or so
Of seeing blue tit fly from hole in standing tree stump
One April day more than forty years ago.

I stood on tip toes and tried to look inside the tree stump
But all seemed dark in there I needed light
I hurried back home for to fetch a flash lamp
And what I saw a memorable sight.

A little nest of moss and hay and lined with feathers
And nine pale eggs with freckles brown to red
Laid by the little bird with yellow unders
Blue wings and tail and tiny blue cap on head.

I marvelled at this wondrous sight of Nature
How one small bird so many eggs could lay
The memory all those years has remained with me
And I still can picture what I see today.

I still can picture forty five years later
Nine speckled eggs in nest of moss and hay
Some things from childhood always remain with us
And from the memory never fade away.