Feeding The Birds (Poetry)

We wake to hear them on the sill
beaks tapping quickly as they feed
and flutter eager for their fill —
a kitchen mix of crumbs and seed.

Their cheerful chirping lifts our mood
a rush of noise to start the day
like kids at breakfast grab for food
they push each other out the way.

Such pleasure their short visit brings
a scuffle and their meal is done —
we hear their sudden whirr of wings
the sill is bare and they are gone.