***********************************
"Flying in the dark through a moonlit sky,
Falling from high like little angels,
Floating down on a wavering leaf,
The confusion has now begun.
Our dear little Willow Warbler"
Daytime closed you was not seen,
Daytime closed you was not seen,
Whilst morning wakes your plenty,
So tred so soft our leaf explorer,
A “bouquet” of special prize to us,
Our dear little Willow Warbler
Sylvia’s hand of lucid intricacy
Our dear little Willow Warbler
Your music is a descending tale,
Which finish the year hou whit,
A choir with pairs sings thy will,
A “Fall” would be a lot of thee,
Our dear little Willow WarblerSylvia’s hand of lucid intricacy
You thread that weave so delicately,
To house and raise a splendid cast,
It’s a start to a “Wrench” fulfilled
Our dear little Willow Warbler
Our dear little Willow Warbler
(Poem written by Bryan Yorke on 10th April 2015)