Post by siobhan on Jan 31, 2015 4:32:02 GMT 7
Hi everybody... this is a short poem I wrote about my drive to work in the morning, I hope you enjoy..
Counting Curlews
I count curlews as I go to work, dapper oystercatchers too,
And a fork-tailed tern, white below and buff above,
With beak retrousse, pixie-like.
The crow, avian rag-and-bone man, in black hoodie and grey coat
Cracks mussels on the rocks, while two swans, serene and calm
Dip sinuous necks to gulp water, gliding 'til death us do part.
In a waterside tree, the roosting egret imitates
A white plastic bag, watching the diving cormorant
(or is it the shag – too far to look for speck of white on thigh or cheek).
The heron stands sentry on a rock, immobile,
Waiting for dinner to pass and
STAB the stiletto beak strikes.
The mallard in his coat of many colours and his glossy brown wife
Lead the Duck Flotilla, are they wigeons or are they teals?
Alas! Impossibe to tell as they take off with alarmed quacks.
Herring gulls in moonlight grey waistcoats and black-backed gulls
Bob on choppy waters, where river flow meets ocean tide,
Attended by speckled wives in sober tweeds.
And, once-seen, now forever imprinted in my mind's eye
The kingfisher's
Sizzling electric-blue flash.
Counting Curlews
I count curlews as I go to work, dapper oystercatchers too,
And a fork-tailed tern, white below and buff above,
With beak retrousse, pixie-like.
The crow, avian rag-and-bone man, in black hoodie and grey coat
Cracks mussels on the rocks, while two swans, serene and calm
Dip sinuous necks to gulp water, gliding 'til death us do part.
In a waterside tree, the roosting egret imitates
A white plastic bag, watching the diving cormorant
(or is it the shag – too far to look for speck of white on thigh or cheek).
The heron stands sentry on a rock, immobile,
Waiting for dinner to pass and
STAB the stiletto beak strikes.
The mallard in his coat of many colours and his glossy brown wife
Lead the Duck Flotilla, are they wigeons or are they teals?
Alas! Impossibe to tell as they take off with alarmed quacks.
Herring gulls in moonlight grey waistcoats and black-backed gulls
Bob on choppy waters, where river flow meets ocean tide,
Attended by speckled wives in sober tweeds.
And, once-seen, now forever imprinted in my mind's eye
The kingfisher's
Sizzling electric-blue flash.
