By the balcony, watching the bee eaters

I spend Sunday mornings at my balcony, annoyed mostly

The chirp of bee eaters ruin my sleeping in

I groan six times out of nine and still drag myself out of bed

Make coffee and go to watch, these little green tiny bee eaters, fluttering

Whizzing past often before my face

I sometimes wondered, if I could speak to them

I hoped someday to ask them to postpone their morning rituals

I did today, but it seems to be a quandary

You see, there is a golden Magnolia tree

Hosting a few of the other varieties

Of chirpy lasses and stubborn lads

Wanting to build nests, or feed their had (little birdies they already have)

Apparently those non bee eaters, the drongos

Have a schedule to keep is what I have been told

I moved in last year, to this block of my home

These birdies have here forever flown

So I must not fret, ask for a reconsideration

And silently watch these green bee eaters in action

And sip my coffee, thank the universe

Call it a lovely restful Sunday