The birds are very busy just now and they zip past our windows on their ever hasty
way but every now and again, one of these lovely creatures lands at the bottom of
our garden and we get to see the heron in all its archaic wonder and grace. They are so
totally beautiful that, as we used to say, their utter loveliness completely
knocks your socks off.
THAT OLD DINOSAUR BIRD
That old dinosaur bird came galumphing down the river
Like an aeroplane on its last legs,
Whose engine is bumping and jumping
Through the twilit air.
Not the most graceful bird,
But incredibly beautiful in a Picasso’ish kind of way,
And Picasso would be thrilled to paint him
If he had his time again,
And make of that heron
A rapturously lovely, joyful,
Sort of dazzling cubist display.
Uh oh, there he goes again!
Crashing down so close to the water
He could dip his long archaic beak
Into the river and spear a fish.
Or seize that crouching ginger cat watching him
And flip it into the trees for the fun of it.
‘SPLASH’ he goes, and the whole river shudders,
Other birds whistle and shake their heads,
‘Dinosaur bird,’ you can almost hear them say,
‘When are you ever going to learn to land
In a proper, elegant, bird-of-flight’ish sort of way?’
But that bony bird doesn’t care.
He just flaps away.
© 2018 GWEN GRANT
Poems by Gwen Grant 