Poetry Monday: In The Yard

It's Poetry Monday, which isn't news for anybody who has been reading here for at least two weeks, but which I shall announce anyway. This week's topic is "in the yard" and you can also visit Diane's and Delores' blogs to see their take on the theme. Feel free to join in, either in the comments or on your own blog, and to use another topic if you wish. There aren't really any rules, which makes this a fun and stress-free exercise!

Did I say stress-free? It really should have been like that.

I started out with the best of intentions. My "in the yard" poem was going to be a conversation between the various birds that visit our feeder, with some invented dialogue to match the kind of song each bird typically uses. And for those of you who don't have the same kinds of birds I do, I was going to include a clip of each of the birds so you could see, sort of, how I came up with the lines of dialogue.

Oh! It was going to be fabulous -- informative, amusing, clever, absolutely delightful!

Then I got lost down another rabbit hole. Holy smokes, people, did you know how many great YouTube videos there are of birds and birdsong and bird identification and bird feeding??

A very large number of great many, to understate the answer.

And in the middle of all of that, I also watched a multi-clip raccoon video, because I'm a sucker for those little guys with the guilty body language and endearing handwashing habit. (Spoiler alert: this is the video that I've already mentioned in another post, where one clip shows a person dumping little fish into a large tub for the raccoon to chase. I can't say for sure whether the raccoon actually caught any fish but I don't think he did. He seemed to be having fun just chasing and catching and releasing . . . but the rest of the clips are so worth it, maybe you could just close your eyes during that one if you feel it may bother you . . .) 

Long story short . . . oh, is it too late for that?

Long story LONG, then. I realized I could not compress everything I wanted to do into the remaining hour I had set aside to complete my post.

So, yer gittin' a pome. ONLY a pome.

And here it is.

And it's not anything like what I started out to write.

* * * * *

In My Yard

Two chickadees flitted to the nearby tree.
Said the first to the second, "Are there any seeds for us?"
Said the second to the first, "Let me check, let me see!"
And he flitted to the feeder with a minimum of fuss.

And they bobbed and they ate
And their manners were first-rate.

Then came Mister Bluejay with his winsome bride,
Instead of just a couple birds, they sounded like a crowd.
They advertised their presence, then they took some seeds to hide,
Never very pushy but they sure aced being loud.

And with a hop, a jump, a peck --
They showed decent etiquette.

The green and yellow finches hurried over as a bunch;
One male and seven ladies all so tiny in the trees;
Took turns upon the feeder so that all could get some lunch;
More quiet and more orderly than any little breeze.

They were cute and pulled no pranks
And every one said "please" and "thanks."

Now, I believe all Nature's birdies -- all her beasties, too --
Deserve a decent meal each day, and with their meal, a drink;
But this I have to say, and it pains me, yes it do:
When I see the blackbirds coming, they make my spirits sink.

They flock here by the thousands, or at least that's how it seems.
They come at any time of day; they hang around for hours.
Their staring yellow eyes are the stuff of awful dreams,
And they argue and they chatter and they fertilize the flowers.

To sum it up, here's what I think:
Blackbirds' manners kind of stink.


*****

Note 1: The kind of blackbird we get here is Brewer's blackbird, but I couldn't fit the whole name into the poem! Here is a website where you can have a good look at my little friends, and listen to their screechy-hinge call: Brewer's Blackbird 


 Note 2: I don't really mind them as much as it sounds from the poem (artistic license and all that). They are quite striking, with their glossy purple heads and green sheen on their bodies. I could do without the beady eyes, but they can't help the kind of eyes they have. I totally get that, given the family nose that I inherited.

Brewer's blackbird (Borrowed from www.allaboutbirds.org, with thanks)

 And a video taken through my kitchen window:

(Please hang in there for the first part of the video where it seems like nothing is happening. Nothing IS happening, but it will! And around 1:10 you'll get a good look at the blackbird stare. Also, at about 1:37 notice the fellow getting all puffed up. They were doing that a lot for a few days and I'm thinking it might have been a mating display. Now they're just eating, as far as I can see. And eating. And eating . . .)


*****

Wishing you all a good week!

Update:  Next week's topic is . . . rain . . . and I think we're all going to have plenty to say about that . . .