I saw a starling
staring
at string
in Tring.
‘Ring the RSPB!’
said Rin Tin Tin;
They were not in,
so, I, distracted it.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #DecliningPoem, #poetry. #poem, #RSPB, #Staring, #Starling, #String, #Tring
Mother?
What is it, Grace, darling?
What sort of bird are we?
I think that we are called, ‘starlings’, my dear.
Oh.
Is there a problem, Grace?
No. I just wanted to grow up and be a kingfisher.
Ah, the fisher king – such a fine colouring, almost as beautiful as yours, Grace.
Beautiful? I am a dull shade of slate grey.
Not when you are in the sunlight, Grace; then you are without doubt the most beautiful of all birds.
Really?
Definitely.
 | Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
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| Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
| Words from a Lentil… on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
| Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
Graeme Sandford 