The Kingfisher
I’ve thought of this verse
Whilst with nothing to do
Of the beautiful Kingfisher
Dressed in blue
As he sits on a branch
And is ever alert
He’ll wait and watch
Then dive with a spurt
Into the stream
With his dagger-like beak
But all you will see
Is a flashing blue streak
He swoops and weaves
When after his game
He’s the king of the fishers
So hence his name
He’ the prettiest bird
In the British Isles
And when you see him
He’ll turn on your smiles
These poems that I have written are my own work and have regisered copywrite
you will find more of them a
Http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/rhythm
in my secret garden which can be found on the links psge
Beryl