Food for thought

A terracotta pie dish, with a raised crust of ice, sits on the path. 
All around, granulated sugar has been sprinkled, which sticks to leaves and twigs 
and looks good enough to eat. 

A lone violet flower under the ash tree 
has been dipped in egg white and given a sugar crust, 
while the aged beer barrel doubles up as an ice container for cocktails.

Alas, though, the restaurant customers are finding the chilly air
and frozen morsels somewhat unpalatable.

Peanuts and sunflower seeds are very welcome
but the fat balls are so hard, resisting their pecking.

Sultanas are strewn hopefully by the proprietor
but are snatched by greedy feral birds and remain unseen
by those for whom they were intended –
for Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird come, but they don’t see the plump, sugary feast.

A regular customer, a handsome jay, 
attempts to peck at a fat ball, out of curiosity,
with limited success.

The proprietor, meanwhile, and her husband, watch on, 
thrilled to see so many new customers,
but hoping the cold spell soon eases for their feathered friends
so that the avian restaurant 

can return 

to normal service 

once again.