The weight of song

A bypass is no place for a bird

Lighter than a pound’s diminutive mint  

It’s feet are tiny tender hooks

Grappling a cable’s scratchy climb

But when it’s time to sing its tune

No tarmac clatter jars its breath

No drill of builders’ Liebher Rig

Wrecks its urge to crank its song

Trembling feathers, rattling din

A siren reeling in to blue

We won’t forget the £1 wren,

It’s voice as stern as brass!

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