Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Dirty Bird! Dirty Bird!

Flags to bulls, debates to pundits, quackery to Orac... some things just elicit reflexive responses. GrrlScientist was looking for songs about birds, and a comment led to... this.

I apologize in advance. (yes, it does have a tune.)


We met on the day of the backyard bird count,
and I thought her exceedingly pleasant
With lovely long legs, like a heron’s mount,
and the breast of a succulent pheasant;
I will nevermore grouse, like a lark I will sing,
at the wonderful evening to follow—
Now she calls me her snowcock, the pretty young thing,
and I call her my sweet red-rumped swallow!

I just thought, on a lark,
We could walk in the dark
Just my raven-haired beauty and me
If my heart doesn’t quail
As we stand at the rail
This old coot has a desperate plea:
By the light of the moon
I’m a bit of a loon
And half out of the mind that I’m in--
So I’m asking, would you be
My blue-footed booby
And join me in cardinal sin…


I said “My name’s Jay”; she replied “Call me Phoebe”,
And craned, with the grace of a swan;
I saw a great tit, thought “How lucky could we be?”
And our list, once we kissed, now was on!
We ducked out the back, oh so rapid and swift—
With her pace, why, I barely could match ‘er—
Now she calls me woodpecker, which gives me a lift,
And I call her my dear oystercatcher!

I just thought, on a lark,
We could walk in the dark
Just my raven-haired beauty and me
If my heart doesn’t quail
As we stand at the rail
This old coot has a desperate plea:
By the light of the moon
I’m a bit of a loon
And half out of the mind that I’m in--
So I’m asking, would you be
My blue-footed booby
And join me in cardinal sin…

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Cuttlefish, you are my idol. Your poems just get better and better.