I hope you enjoy this. I did write it, and as silly as it is, just enjoy and leave it here.
Once Upon a Morning Dreary
Once upon a morning dreary, as I photo-ed birds more clearly,
Over the white and drifted snow, I watched them struggle in the windy blow.
While I stared, quite innocently, suddenly the wind blew intently,
The wintry fowl approached the feeder, approaching afore my window here,
“They’re only hungry,” that I murmured, “flapping near my window here;
Only this and nothing more.”
As I gazed out at that feeder, amazed and wondering, ever peering,
Watching birds dart here and there, intrigued as I’d never been before,
To the feeder they came chirping, anticipating their next meal,
chirping - chipping; to the birdbath, sipping – sipping, never tipping,
Then I whispered as I snapped my photos, “I could do this evermore!”
Only this, “Forever more!”
As I turned round in that kitchen, to my breakfast business be,
Preparing my meal for the morning, a feeling came quite suddenly.
A yearning – yes, such a yearning, quite stronger even than before -
I found myself so quickly turning – quickly, yes! So I could see
There was a figure – Oh! and different. Large and cunningly stood he,
He stood alone, no-one more.
Opening here, I raised the curtain, so this figure I’d clearly see,
Standing midst where the rest had been, he’d surely cleared the yard and more.
A Sharp-shinned Hawk stood there, perching, standing ever confidently
Turned his sharp eye here and there, resting gaze on the empty store.
He perched serenely, ever watchful, while I standing on kitchen floor.
He turned his gaze on nothing more.
As I peeked out through the window, my mutter turned into a roar,
“The nerve of him! I know he’s hungry. But did he have to scare MY birds?”
Here I confess my own despondence as ineptly I took that chore,
but his presence in my garden brought to my mind some threatening words,
“Hey, you bird! Get out of my garden!” as an echo again repeated my roar,
And left me wondering - what’s in store?
Slowly turning round he gazed, with steely eyes so very clear,
He thought he’d won but my upturned hand showed there was more!
He saw my weapon – my frying pan! His exit now was near…
I opened the window in preparation - his gaze right through me tore.
So he left, wings lifted skyward, causing him to quickly soar,
Yes, dear friends, I won the battle, but quite clearly he had won the war.
Quite honestly, I haven't seen a sharp-shinned hawk here in a couple of years. However, his visit did result in a front yard devoid of any other living creature. After he finally flew away, the Winter birds did not return for quite some time.