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
This is such fun! So clever and well thought! Thank you for the smile today. The Fool Lew
This is a very clever, original, entertaining, and well-done piece of work on fowl-play! I really enjoyed it, Kristina! :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one is brilliant Kristina...a parody on the politicians' murky role...