The love of birds has prompted my neighbor to indulge
In the feeding of feathered friends who come to feast
Pecking and consuming... expanding with a bulge
Sufficiently satisfied…. Seeking a place to release
Flying over a tall wooden fence… becoming bombardiers
Hovering like Jackson Pollock with an artistic precision
Signaling for backup…a chirping call I unpleasantly hear
As I wash and hose my ill-treated car… I make a decision
Hoisting a full sized plastic rendition of an owl upon a perch
Hoping to scare away a prolific group of splattering painters
Discouraging the expressive birds from their defecating search
Since carefree parent birds are not competent potty trainers
6/2/08
Understand what your saying but I cant do wuthout the colour in a rather dark world Chris ps A PAINTED TABLE on my site
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Those plastic owls how convenient. A place to rest for birds that Have just finished a feast.