The Marry Month of May

It's the marry month of May when flowers are in bloom
A time for courtship and romance for every bride and groom.

Mister Swallow and his bride donned their very best
They married in a hawthorn tree and then they built their nest.
​

And then there were two pixies dear who lived in Yorkshire dell
The fairy folk who live there still have this tale to tell...

Mushroom Boy, a gentleman, he bowed on bended knee
Asking his beloved one, "will you marry me?"

"Oh yes!" she cried and clapped her hands, her cheeks a rosy hue
And with a sunny smile she said, "I will marry you!"
​

Another couple fell in love when they were young and free
Married in a chapel, filled with friends and family.

They are still together now, a faithful king and queen
Through all the seasons of their life, like a garden green.

Birds and faeries, people too can marry in the spring
​Sharing love and happiness and even wedding rings.

© written and illustrated by Christine Summerfield / May 7, 2020

                  Coats of Blue
       Two little friends in coats of blue
       Went walking one rainy day
       There was no sun
       But they had fun
       Singing along the way!

       The raindrops fell
       Pell and mell
       You might say "my oh my!"
       But 'neath that umbrella you could tell
       That they were warm and dry.

       And then they stopped to take a look
       At birdies one and two
       Under an umbrella big
       With feathers bright and blue!

   I     

​            They too were singing in the rain
            Yet they were warm and dry
            Underneath a mushroom cap
            Big, and fat and wide!

           So when you walk out with a friend
           Who likes to sing with you
           You might just see another pair
​           Wearing coats of blue.
          

Foxes in the Grass

A family of foxes hiding in the grass
Showed off their rusty tails as I walked past.
A family of foxes hiding on the hill
Not a sound did they make, hiding oh so still.

A tiny yellow bird landed on the biggest one
Pecking, poking here and there and having lots of fun.
As quickly as she landed, she gently flew away
​I wondered why the foxes let her poke them in this way.

And then that tiny little bird whispered in my ear
"Go and touch that furry tail, you do not need to fear."
And so I tip toed in the grass to that family
And touched the biggest rusty tail oh so carefully.
It wasn't soft and fluffy, but really kind of dry
"It's not a fox at all, but a big old weed!" I cried.

I rubbed and rubbed that big old tail in my dirty hand
And lots of tiny seeds fell like little grains of sand.
"That, my friend is a curly dock" the happy birdie said
"I like to eat their tiny seeds, so rich and scarlet red."

And as the birdie flew away, I gave a little laugh
​How fun it is to think of foxes hiding in the grass!

Jewel in the Crown
                                                                                          
A field full of weeds
   as the summer sun burns...
The old ones recede
   and the new take their turns...

Blossoming now on the warm summer stage
Enters the King as we turn the page...

Standing tall with scepter of thorns
His purple flowers await to be born.
Filling his crown with flowers bright
​Like amethyst jewels they shine in the light.

With his prickles sharp, no one comes near
Instilling respect and a wee bit of fear!
But the winged ones know of his royal treasures
They dig for his gold with fervor and pleasure!
For his flowers are softer to the touch
​The bees and the butterflies like them so much!

​And when the jewels fade away from the crown
They change to brittle, dry rusty brown
But the gold finch knows of the treasures inside
Quickly she lands and knows where they hide. 
She mines all day in a cloudy white puff
Filling her beak with seeds from the fluff!

After the seeds from the rusty old crown
The last gift remains, the gift of the down.
Silky and soft, the gentlest of all
Will line the nests of the finches so small.

A Wall of Happy Houses

A wall of happy houses is just along the street
Full of every color for the birds who like to sing tweet tweet!
 
The colors make a rainbow of yellow, blue and green
Orange bright and violet and pinks of shiny sheen!
 
This neighborhood’s for winged ones, for finches red and blue
Who play and fly and sing all day: “Tra Lee, Tra Lah, Tra Loo!”
 
They never seem to argue or get into a fight
They’re much too busy singing and playing in the light!

As I sat in my rocking chair with my morning cup of tea
The sun poured through my window bright and what did I then see?
Underneath the pine tree tall was grass all green and lush
It had rained all through the night, a carpet soft and plush.
Puddles lay all through the grass, like a land of little lakes
The sun was shining on them all-not a peep did the water make.
Until I heard a gentle sound of wings all-a-flutter
Two robins hopped along the green, and playfully chased each other.
They flew together up and down, like the bow of a happy fiddle
Until at last they dove right in and jumped inside the middle!
They splished and splashed in the water bright, enjoying their morning bath
They brought a smile to my face, how they made me laugh!
And just as quickly as they came, the birds away they flew
And dried their wings in the morning sun by drops of sparkling dew.
So when you take your morning walk, and your boots are all a muddle
The simplest joy you may find there in a spring time watery puddle!

written by Christine Summerfield
​April 2017

As I looked up in my apple tree
Two little friends I did see
A fairy boy all dressed all in blue
Talking away with someone new.
His wings of green were all a glimmer
And his curly hair in the sun did shimmer
He creeped and crawled on a branch up high
Then stopped and said "my oh my"
"Who are you with wings of brown
Flitting and flying down to the ground?
Your breast of red is soft and furry
You seem to be in such a hurry..."

And this was her reply:

"You may call me Mrs. Robin, I come here in the spring
I build my nest up in this tree, and how I love to sing!
My nest is strong and sturdy so, with branches dry and brown
But inside it is soft and warm, a cozy bed of down
For soon, I'll lay my eggs you see, all blue and speckled and round
I'll sit on them and keep them warm, until you hear the sound
Of babies with their voices high, a-chirping and a-cheeping
Until they settle down again, curled up and a- sleeping.
Then I'll fly away a bit and look for worms so long
And bring them back for feeding time to make my young ones strong."

The fairy boy he listened to the story of the bird
Never a tale so magical he had ever heard.
He wanted to help and be a friend to the Mother Red
And so he offered his services and this is what he said:

"Mrs. Robin I will help while you fly away
Your babies I will gently watch and keep them safe at bay
And should they wake and look around and give a little cry
I'll softly wave my fairy wings and sing a lullaby."

The mother gave a friendly nod and a smile she did lend
They joined their wings together and became the best of friends.
And so the two they shared their days in that apple tree
Tending to the babies young, birdies one, two three.

And when the birdies did grow up and away from the nest they flew
Mrs. Robin stayed best of friends with the fairy boy of Blue.

​written by Christine Summerfield/April 2017

Bath Time for Birds
I am a shiny bird bath, I come out in the spring
I stand here in a carpet of green and hear the songbirds sing
Each day the gardener comes along and takes good care of me
He scrubs away my dirt and dust and fills me with water clean.
He puts a little stone or two in the middle of my sink
And tiny birds can safely land and take a good long drink.
I get all kinds of visitors throughout the summer day
Finches, sparrows, chickadees and noisy big blue jays.
But of all the winged friends that come and visit me awhile
Me thinks the robin is the best, she always makes me smile
She lands right in my water deep for her evening bath
The water splashes everywhere, it really makes me laugh.
And then she stands upon the edge and puffs her feathers big
She shakes and does a little dance, a funny robin jig.
So in the garden look for birds who always come and go
For the feathered friends in my garden green like to put on a show!