Every spring a visitor comes
to dwell underneath my roof.
She raises her babies there, safe and warm;
their insistent chirpings give proof.
As she alights on the edge of the roof
she carefully scans below,
protecting her young ones she earnestly peers,
making sure that she spies no foe.
Sweet, little mother, protectively busy,
your chicks crying out for a feed,
working all day to get them their dinner,
supplying their most urgent need.
How I enjoy your comings and goings,
my dear little, feathered guest!
Of all the fine things that come with the spring
your visit to me is the best.