Magpie

I spy a nest way up in a tree

It looks little and messy down here to me

I should appreciate it, for it’s art

But I know what’s coming and I will have to dart

In and out, Up and down

Avoiding the bird, making her rounds

Of protection.

The swooping Magpie of doom

It takes us out, out of the room

Now a magpie has a lovely warble

Pretty and melodious

It’s sound is sweet.

She’s a biggish bird

Black and white

And on the face of it

Nature got it right.

But Oh when nesting season does start

So does the swooping and so does cry

Not one to discriminate

It doesn’t matter how nice

You have been to the bird

Come nesting season

You’ll be ducking alright.