There, on the rooftop did he sit,
My Raven, black as ace of spates,
Most upset, he gave me shit,
For the fluff that came from heaven’s gate,
I did sympathise with him,
For snow was on my tulips now,
And on the rooftop tin,
And on my furrowed brow,
The black and white, was stark and vivid,
As the white shit from above did fall,
Upset he was, really riled, and lived,
I swear, I heard him names me call,
So there I stood, and barked right back,
You’re barking up the wrong tree I said,
It’s the wrong person you attack,
Best you yell at God instead,
You might think, I have the power,
Because, you brat, I spoiled you rotten,
But, I’m not in charge of rain or shower,
Don’t blame me, if you’re downtrodden,
Crow up there, at them, my fella black,
I’m just as pissed, as you my friend,
That this shit, in the midst of spring is back,
When, I ask, will this white shit ever end?©23/04/2012
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Ron
Quite a tale my friend, and ye best be careful before that crow gifts you with some of his own white shit!!
PS: The birds always 'gift' my wife out in our backyard, and I always laugh and tell her that means that they like her!
sorry, couldn't help it
just just great!
john
Sage