So there I was, sitting at my kitchen table-

Having my breakfast staple, black coffee and a sesame bagel.

It was a normal Saturday morn...

So I had plenty of work to elude.

The Bluebirds caught my eye, for them it was nest building time...

Time to clean house, and build a nest fit for a new brood.

I watched as the mom and dad gathered up refuse,

Dried grass, string, hair, and even tinsel from my last Christmas tree.

"I wondered, why not just leave the old nest? Everything gathered is dead anyway."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a punk Starling alights on their hut, sitting as sire.

Sending them into a chattering frenzy. So they drew back to a distant wire,

Rustled their blue plumes and planed their attack...

They buzzed him!

Swooping down and at the last, dodging...

That intruder's harsh screeching yak;

I've seen it done before, they always win,

I just figure the "Blues" are desperate for cheap lodging.