A simple poem that is difficult to read aloud, but I’ve managed it with only one mistake as far as I can hear. There have been some very cold spells lately and that has affected the behaviour of birds and cats in the garden.
Icy Blast
Cold winds now blow an icy blast
That comes from north or far-off east
Over chilly hills and mountains vast
Named by some souls as ‘something’ beast
Visible breath from my open mouth
This human body turned due south
To shelter from a climate fraught
Towards the sun that warmth has brought
The feeders’ seeds in deep night froze
Birds’ brittle beaks the ice must break
For the rain that fell no longer flows
A feathered feed that cat could make
Lurking low by bulging bushes
He preys as paws in frost he pushes
Like parish priests by pews prostrate
These hunters portly pigeons await
The ground is ghostly, wonderous white
The flighted flee the killing ground
To perch on rooves – framed by the light
The silhouetted squawkers sound
As mildness moulds the morning air
Red the face, wind-blown the hair
O, reminisce of winters past
Long live this life in icy blast!