From my bedroom lies located on the side of my home’s length

A primary window from which I have spied,

Facing the northerly side

Many audible and visible gifts

I pleasingly awake to the sounds of the Palomas cooing

Saying “do not go to sleep, do not go to sleep”

There are many things you should be doing!

and sure enough, my mind knows it is time to rise

But sleep beckons my body back into her bosom

And the bird’s cooing comforts me and heavies the lids of my eyes

The Pacific’s crashing waves, like water borne whispers

fill my ears with the banter of the beach

and not of much surprise up above,

 the seagull’s ride the thermals in fanciful winged gestures

Perfectly choreographed and free of airborne collision

Close enough to view well, but just out of reach

This too is a marvel

Their Avian symmetry, their unequaled precision

When first I observe this phenomenon and what it had to teach

I believed the birds to be the Capistrano Swallows

and I remember thinking

“So this is what all the fuss is about”

Why men have written song and verse and even these birds followed

Imagine my chagrin to learn these Passerine relatives to the common Martin

That I thought to perform their unique swallow bird dip dive and swoosh strut

Was nothing more than Seagulls dancing

Devoid of coordinated leg or foot

But their grace dependent on feathered lace and instinctive swoops

and soars well placed and well put

Migrating between their beloved beach grounds

and the municipal land’s fill several miles to the north east

The oleander that snakes along my property wall

Meanders among the promiscuous Jasmine that also brazenly grows there

Feeds many hungry caterpillars that in summer all

Will transform into winged creatures in their own right and fill the hot air

 As many breathtaking butterflies

A just compensation for devouring my garden’s foliage

With all of this beauty and natural charm

The greatest of these I believe to be the soothing and hynotic call

Of the Paloma’s song to me when the day is new

and these Turtle Doves terrifically and considerately coo

Their morning’s call so that I can begin my day again

Copyright ©2011 by j. k. Bradford, All Rights Reserved