Dedicated to our beloved politicians who have entertained the British public with their squirming over the past few weeks.
It is hard for us to swallow,
that magpies
...
Arion hortensis sleeps
coiled in crevices, anticipating
the sluggish Spring,
his blue-black mantle oiled.
...
Birds On A Telegraph Wire
Dedicated to our beloved politicians who have entertained the British public with their squirming over the past few weeks.
It is hard for us to swallow,
that magpies
tchak - tchak, tchak –tchak,
could rook us during their stint -
feathering their nests.
They liked to swan around
under bunting,
while goosing up their lives,
diving, ducking,
quack, quack, quack,
to gull the gullible.
There we were -
pushovers,
the silent jays,
easy victims of thieving owls
willing to woo us -
to wit – their prey.
Shraik, shraik, shraik,
we jays protest at last.
Now the vultures
are eating crow.
They quail,
quik-quik! quik-quik!
they grouse,
go-back! go-back!
are swift - to snipe,
chipper, chipper, chipper
and turn on each other.
There was a lone martin,
pree-tit, pree-tit, pree-tit,
and all he wanted to know
was, who was the canary
in their common house,
who warbled.
UK 2009