Some birds look particularly elegant and graceful when they fly…
And some don’t…
Panicking pigeons are pitiful things,
Flapping and slapping and clapping their wings,
Each one has only one thing on its brain,
And that’s searching for insects, for seeds, and for grain.
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Walk-bobbing-walking like chickens on speed,
Or speeded up clockwork or on some doped seed,
Cooing down chimneys and shitting on folks,
A ridiculous call like a ghost being choked.
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A floundering pheasant’s a physical freak,
With a whirring of wings and a creak from its beak,
You would think they would hide up and shut up all day,
But a clattering rusty noise gives them away.
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There are plenty of elegant fowl in the sky,
The swift and the swallow, the eagle and kite,
With a breath-taking swoop or a beautiful song,
At times, though, evolution just got it plain wrong.
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And on the subject of birds, I couldn’t let you go without letting you listen to the blackbird in our garden who I mentioned in the previous post, who has been singing his little heart out every day:
