Thursday, March 29, 2007
There used to be a little old lady where we live, she was 84 years young. Clara was thrilled when I wrote this poem for her, it speaks for itself.
The old lady refills the bird feeders each day
She feeds all the birds so they don't go away
There are all kinds of birds that belong to her flock
They hover around her, like the hands of a clock.
There's one in particular, that's there all the time
Regular as clockwork, magnificent and fine
He's hungry and greedy, most every day
Yes you have got it, it's the greedy Blue jay.
You should hear his screech, if the lady is late
Worse than a horse that is last out the gate
He is my alarm, at the suns early rise
The Blue jay is hungry and noisy -- but wise.
Eric Valentine Aug 31/98