This poem is dedicated to CRYSTAL, a beautiful redheaded young lady. Now with Jesus.
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WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT, THERE'S A PARROT ABOUT At this specific time I’m trying to write a rhyme But the parrot on my shoulder Doesn’t think I outta. He’s nibbling at my ears Kissing neck and cheek What a shame he’s not a bloke That’d be right up my street. He’s an African Grey called Dillon A rescue bird in a million He plucks the feathers from his wings But boy ! Can this bird talk and sing. Because he cannot fly He’s free to roam at will ‘Cos what he really cannot stand Is having to stay still. When I am in my study That’s the place he wanders to One of the favourite games he plays Is trying to steal my shoe. ( off my foot that is ! ) He chatters on and on He whistles many a tune He tells me he’s a good boy and Where is the moon ? Now Dillon has two parrot friends Cohorts in villainy Plus one dog, five cats, one human Here at the menagerie. I do not think that Mizzy, Rescued parrot number two Will ever stop her plucking Knowing the trauma she’s been through. To me, she is a loving bird Who sees me as her friend I feed and play and talk to her From morn until days’ end. But Mizzy has a lethal beak As sharp as any knife If she takes a dislike to you You’d best run for your life. Although she cannot fly No flight feathers, you see It does not stop her attacking Anyone who doesn’t flee. Her movements are so fast She’s on you in a flash Take my advice, don’t say hello Go for the instant dash. Papagallo is number three , That’s parrot in Italian, ‘ Pop goes the Weasel ’ is his best tune He gives a good rendition. Now Pappy’s fully clothed Denuding’s not for him When he’s allowed out of his house It’s lampshades he starts to trim. He chases cats, he steals dog food He dive bombs from above But when the fancy takes him He really is a love. Head down means, please tickle me Head on one side, I’m listening Bobbing up and down means dance To the music that I am hearing. Sitting at my computer I can hear them utter sounds Although some is gobbledegook They’re coming on leaps and bounds. Each speaks their name so clearly Each with different diction All say hello, bark like the dog Soon they’ll be writing fiction ! So now you’ve met my psittacine In time to come there’ll be More stories I can tell to you Which I ’ll impart with glee. |