Though little of their ways i can claim to know
The chaffinches are birds of groves, woods and hedgerow
Yet the male unmistakeable by his chirp or his song
By sight or by sound one cannot get them wrong
I have seen their nest on fork of low branch of tree
A wonder of Nature indeed for to see
A neat cup shaped nest of mosses and lichen made
With four bean sized reddish eggs slightly blotched brown that the female had laid
From my younger years the memory i recall
Around the heaps of grain chaff left by the grain threshing machines in the Fall
The chaffinches in search of small seeds did congregate
Till the threshing machines of the fifties and sixties passed their use by date
But that is going back near five decades in time
When i was a decade short of my life's prime.
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