Perhaps there are too many bird poems already and perhaps all the things that might be said about them have been said, and certainly better said, than anything I can do now – perhaps, in short, birds in general have become too poeticised, perhaps, perhaps... And yet the arrival – that long awaited, much looked forward to – was that really a swallow? – of the traditional herald (no, not that poeticised word 'harbinger'), of summer's-on-its-way, inspires (another poeticised concept to be avoided!)... well, at least, triggers ideas, memories, and happy associations. So here's my simple celebration of the swallow. It's a great pleasure to head it with my friend's painting, which alludes to various questions and man-made stories associated with this lovely bird – details below. I've tried to incorporate them into my poem, as he has in his picture – more after the poem, if you're interested. The Swallow Stream-lined swallow with t