There's the fabled bluebird of happiness,
who sings his pretty tunes,
and the "little bird" with the big mouth,
spreading idle gossip and rumors.

Then there's the red-headed woodpecker,
with his "rat-a-tat-a-tat",
and next, the yellow canary who ...
"Taught he taw a puddy-tat".

There's the red, red robin that signals springtime,
bearing crimson on his chest,
and then the cock that crows, announcing the dawn,
to end our weary rest.

Next, there's the pompous peacock,
with his "hundred eyes of Argus" plumes, who struts his stuff, and leaves a mess -
along with noxious fumes.

There's the turkey in the straw,
with his crown and throat of red,
'n the gawking cawing old BLACK crow,
bobbing his noisy head.

Next, there's the blur of the busy hummingbird,
whirring by ... with speed,
and the teenie-weenie little wren,
wrestling with a seed.

There's the barn-owl
with his great big eyes,
always questioning ... "Whoooooo",
and then the screeching, screaming hawk, sulking at the zoo.

Next, there's the gallant eagle,
soaring high in the clouds above,
and, finally, there's the shy and gentle,
cooing ... Mourning dove.

But, if I had to choose one bird to love,
the one I think I should,
is the one Perdue resembles,
which is "finger-lickin' good".

T'would be the lowly chicken,
well before the rest,
as oft' my teeth sink deep into ....
her luscious, juicy breast.

Copyright 10/7/92:

THOMAS K. HYLAND, JR.