Upon Seagulls

Upon Seagulls

A seagull laughed at me once;

then laughed at me many times;

but, I wasn’t going to be mocked,

by a seagull;

ideas to my mind soon flocked,

and I knew that I could get back at that gull

within the depths of my rhymes:

“A seagull had a silly laugh,

all the grace of a drunken giraffe;

a habit of being particularly nasty

to a tourist and his pasty;

pinching food with out a qualm;

then perching at a height, so calm;

enjoying its ill-gotten fare

then repeating the feat without a care.”

Oh, that didn’t really seem to work;

I made the gull seem cool,

myself a berk.

It’s hard to mock the feathered ones

that pinch your pasties, nick your buns;

I hear their laughter overhead,

and flinch at them in utter dread.

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