The Purple Martins Poem by Raymond Farrell

On the other side
Of the back fence
In the home
I grew up in
The Neal family lived
In a modest brick house
Old mister Neal
Was a kindly old gent
Who was as handy
As could be
With a box of tools
In the northwest corner
Of his back yard
He erected a large
Multi-story apartment complex
By nailing it
To the clothes line pole
And before you knew it
A colony of Purple Martins
Had moved in
They were a contentious lot
The largest member
Of the North American swallow family
Their aerial acrobatics
Were something to behold
Such speed and agility
They'd dive from the sky
At great speeds
Wings tucked
When approaching their home
This constant display
Of aerial brinkmanship
And their beauty
Allowed us to tolerate
Their noisy squabbles
And made us all happy
They weren't a colony of Starlings.