THE BIRD BATH
By Peter Woodgate
It stands there in the middle of the lawn,
an oasis to all that want to share,
it’s precious liquid that is so essential
and shows to all it’s users that we care.
Statuesque, a monolith to some,
and a lifeline to many types of bird,
when sitting in the garden, peacefully,
the soft approaching beat of wings is heard.
It’s an endless source of interest
as I sit there with a beer,
many a bird comes visiting,
it really does bring cheer.
But, in the early morning
as darkness crumbles away,
I behold a big fat pigeon
and he’s gonna have his way.
No other bird approaches
as he splashes everywhere,
he uses every inch there is,
alas, no room to spare.
First of all, it’s underwings,
some splashes, then he lays
full stretch, proceeds to roll around,
he must think, “Happy Days”.
The other birds, they just look on
whilst thinking, “Prima Donna”,
he thinks too, “I am the King”,
the rest, we’ll they just wanna,
have a bath, just like him,
but then, and right on cue,
he turns around, his back to me
and does a “Number Two”.
Copyright Peter Woodgate
That's the same bloody pigeon that commandeers my bird bath. I recon he's German, except he doesn't bring his towel...
ReplyDeleteVery amusing, just what we need, well written too...