Creek Seagulls

Our Poem

The cry of gulls heralds my day,
As the sun casts its first golden ray,
Or storm clouds gather far out to sea
That first sound in the morning is most precious to me.
The gulls come to their table cheeky and brave,
For scraps from the kitchen they know we will save.
In spring the resident pair arrive.
To a garden ledge where safely their fledglings survive
They bewitch and beguile, fill us with joy
As characters grow, some bossy, some coy.
Soon on wings now strong they'll take their first flights
To glide, catch a thermal, through the clouds changing lights
With mutual respect they'll be there forever
Those friends from the sky with grey tinted feather


Verse by Mary Lascelles