A Fleeting Vision

The Long Tailed Tit is a winter favourite - something to look forward to seeing in our gardens as the year nears its end and the seasons turn.

Here are the first and last stanzas of my poem "A Fleeting Vision".

Soft as a breath on winter’s air,

Drift through gardens, light as a prayer.

A hush of wings, a flick of white,

Then—look, they're gone on whispered flight

And though they never seek our hand,

They stitch their song into our land.

A fragile kinship, feather-thin,

That warms our hearts from deep within.

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The illustration is a detail from the watercolour by Abigail Gingele which will accompany the full poem in the forthcoming book.