The sky looks unwilling to give up the night
though the Tits, Great and Blue, the Robin
and the Blackbird too, have taken to carolling.
It's the Song Thrush however that out sings the rest
like Hardy's Darkling, frail,gaunt and small
tweeting in the century.
Here Christmas lights are glowing on a lone standing yew
and I think of Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All Men anew,
a long shot
if I were a punter these days.
But Santa’s post box is waiting to make wishes and dreams come true
and there’s the sudden bike skid of a kid on route to school
with a letter in his hand bent for some far off land.
I hope he gets his wish and maybe our wishes too
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G53oH-MI9qU- The sound of song thrush
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44325/the-darkling-thrush
Hardy's poem was published on 29th December 1900. Originally titled The Century's Deathbed.
Copyright 2023 Cathy Leonard All Rights reserved
I hear them singing when I let the cat out at 6:45 every morning. It makes me happy when I notice them. I think "what a wonderful way to start the day!"
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