A sparrow lived in Dingle Wood,
it searched for mates, as sparrows should,
but soon discovered in dismay
no other sparrows came that way.
The sparrow sang, high in the trees
which carried by a gentle breeze,
found every corner of the wood
and woke up all the neighbourhood..
Some starlings and a flock of crows,
awakened from their sweet repose,
began to shriek with all their might,
then spread their wings and took to flight;
disturbing blackbirds, magpies, rooks,
(and birds you only see in books;)
each voice increasing the affray
which broke the peace of early day.
The noise grew like a feathered riot
until The Owl demanded quiet,
for he had just got into bed
to rest his worn and weary head.
He’d worked all night, providing food
to offer to his infant brood,
he wasn’t very pleased at all
to wake up to this clarion call.
The Owl in fact was very cross,
and thought he’d show them who was boss;
and boss he was, without a doubt,
there was no bigger bird about.
No other bird so strong or wise,
inhabited the Dingle skies.
He rolled his eyes, he shook his beak,
and then The Owl began to speak.
“To whit, to woo, I want to know,
To who began this noisy show.
Who has disturbed me from my sleep
and caused my owlet brood to weep?”
At which the other birds calmed down.
More than a few got out of town,
for no one there was fool enough
to argue when The Owl got tough.
Except, and this may seem absurd,
that one persistent little bird,
inspired no doubt by sheer frustration,
maintained its musical recitation.
This was a foolish thing to do,
The Angry Owl,to wit to woo,
stretched out a mighty taloned claw
and stilled the song for evermore.
Thomas Vaughan Jones (TVaughanJones@aol.com)