The House Sparrow Poem by Stephen Harris

Not noted for its pleasant song
too common midst the garden throng
Not like the finch with gold wing flair
Few take the time to see him there

With pit coal face and charcoal chest
And unwashed shirt on off white breast
bad brawlers' eyes with blackened look
too slow to move from fleeting hook

Old scaly boots and scabby claws
A well soiled coat of grimy floors
All drab in garb of common throw
Is dressed the dullish house sparrow

So I will stop and gently gaze
Upon this bird of fleeting days
Then sitting down I'll stay a while
And learn from natures gentle style

His waistcoats made of silver down
The jacket tweed of ruddy brown
With specks of tourmalines black fleck
And Whitby jet around his neck

In short, sweet tweets this learned mage
Who wears grey hair of aging sage
Drops crystal drops of love when heard
How lovely is this homely bird?