It is just about the time of year
When "Jenny" wren will appear.
She'll hunt about and scout around
Pick up sticks from off the ground.
Work hard to get them through the door,
Then hurry back to get some more.
She then, will mould a rounded nest
All feather-lined without a rest.
And then flit high up in a tree
To stage an obvious singing spree.
It's then her mate will come along
And sing his cheery lustful song.
And "Jenny" then will choose to rest,
Just sit for days, upon her nest.
And all out doors will become still,
Until one day resounding trill-
Will tell that young have cracked the shell,
To break the tranquil, placid spell.
It's then, the job of food will start,
So "pappa" then will take a part-
And help a little here and there
If, he can find a worm to spare.
The dainty nest will stay so neat,
With no excrement under feet.