I’ll always remember the day:
it was a Saturday,
the day
that a jackdaw
pinched my pasty.
“A jackdaw?” you ask,
“Was it up to the task?
It’s normally a gull
that, perceiving a lack,
will snaffle your snack!”
“‘Twas not a gull,
from Looe or from Hull,
that pinched my pasty,
it was a jackdaw,
of that I am sure.
Black and shiny,
sleek and smart,
was the fearless jackdaw
who practiced his art
to take possession of my lunch,
a wholesome pasty,
on which ‘it’ did munch.”
That day has now been circled
on the calendar of my strife,
as a day I’ll remember
for the rest of my life.
Graeme Sandford 