Hummingbird By Ngim Sher Lyn


A pearl with a slender bill as thin as a string,
Stunning rainbow of colours emerald, ruby and gold,
Neither they can walk and hop, nor will they sting,
With astonishing, amazing acrobatics waiting to unfold.

A creature living east of the Mississippi river,
Temperate woodlands are where they roam,
Filled with falling snow painted with a soft silver,
This is the very place this bird calls home.

It is fragile like a clear crystal glass,
From an hour to an hour to an hour,
Feeding on insects like never running-out grass,
Or hanging around a sweet, fragrant flower.

Setting off on a journey, or rather a trip,
Towards the south, with nothing else to cling,
Escaping the winter season’s grip,
And returning during the next spring.

Despite lacking the sense to smell,
Colours are the strengths of these birds,
No matter red or orange flowers, all is well,
This beauty cannot be described with any words.

Have you ever wondered the origin of its name?
When they flap their wings, they make a noise,
As there is a blazing flame, a never-dying flame,
Only to be found in hummingbirds, this unique voice.

By Ngim Sher Lyn

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