This is a poem about one of those unlikely heroes who crop up now and again to remind us that it's not always the glamorous, the strong or the most fleet-of-foot that are worthy of our applause.
Let's give a big hand to the humble sparrow.
A sparrow’s building in the box
we fixed up on the wall this spring:
hardly the tenant we desired;
a dull, unprepossessing thing,
unlike the Technicolor tit
but then, we had no choice in it.
He builds his nest there, bit by bit.
labours to find, fetch, gather, knit,
while we look on and gradually
applaud his efforts, even cheer
this hero who was no one’s choice,
uplifted by his presence here.