Jan 102014
By Bob Smith.
| Hullo ti ma feathered freens As they sit oot in the caul Aa jist waitin ti be fed By a fite haired human pal . Efter fillin up aa their feeders An scatterin seed alang the grun A gyang back ti ma hoose Ti watch aa naiture’s fun . The sparras an the blackies They swoop doon fairly quick Syne folla’t by the chaffinches As throwe the seeds they peck ‘ Starlin’s are at the bird table Squabblin wi aa their micht The robin sits on a claes pole Scauldin aabody in his sicht |
The robin tho’ he’s fair itchin’ Ti jine the thrang alow He flees doon an flutters aboot His importance he likes ti show . The bird bath’s frozen solid So a sma dishie his ti dee Five dunnocks try ti hae a bath Fin there’s room fer only three . The craws they sit an ponder Foo ti get at aa the seed They try an hing on ti a feeder Bit they jist spill aa the feed . A fair get a lot o enjoyment As the birds they gyang aboot In es caul windy wither They need feedin there’s nae doot |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Photos – Bob The Robin by Elaine Andrews
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