Reads: 180  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
an ode of thanks to all the charming songbirds who visited my feeder and sang for their suppers.
their displacement by the darker power of the sky
an intervention which for now restores the displaced
to their reward.
I think here of the displaced Palestinians and their plight under the boundary wall , built by a darker force , and sustained by a supreme force.

Submitted: October 14, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 14, 2008



Normal 0

In a gesture of utter philanthropy

In thanksgiving for their symphony all summer long;

I hoisted a birdfeeder on my balcony;

For those mirthful minstrels who filled my summer air with song.


The preening fashionista of my feeder is the finch;

Who with chirping chime and twittering delight

Comes in eloquent splendour his prandium to pinch,

To my perch, in green and gold and kaleidoscopic colours to alight.


My generosity is now hideously displaced;

As the boughs heavy with their fruit they weep and hang;

But my friends who from the undergrowth come with golden glittering flittering haste;

Are like some threatened tortured race. Ostracised and displaced,

By crow and magpie rooks and vagabond; scavengers who neither charmed nor ever sang


Yes that hooded slate eyed crow perches from a nearby tree, and peers out;

And now like Leda he takes the feeder and ravishes its peanut flesh;

With a beak of anvil black; he twists and turns his raped victim as he ravishes himself about;

While my perky thrifty songbirds take the seed he spills grotesquely from the mesh.


And of a sudden the charming songsters are scattered by the Rook’s raucous and thunderous plunder,

And left to crawl and peck the falling crumbs from the table, under

While the ravenous ravens; pirates of the night ;

Reign unchallenged over all the dispossessed and smaller creatures of flight


But observing them, a method I contrived.

To spare the feed for the chirpy charmers from the hedge

By elongating the suspended loop, I’ve devised.

And thwarted the scavengers from gaining purchase on theLedge ,


And for three days now the crows have taken flight;

They scowl in a vengeful huddle in the trees in congress conspiring;

All the while keeping the merry feasting songbirds in their wrathful sight;

And I bask again in rapt wonder as they sadly serenade each falling leaf of the season slowly dying


But have no doubt that the calculating coven in the trees, are even now conspiring;

Another assault on my small offering to my mirthful companions of the daylong ochestra.;

And I will once more be set upon unto designing;
Another ruse which I have half hatched but cant tell you because I’m bound to my bond to my minstrels
– Omerta

© Copyright 2017 donkylemore. All rights reserved.