Hi Tweets!



While digging through my computer archives I found this poem I wrote after
an afternoon of birding. I was still under the influence of an intensive
crash course in Shakespeare..



If Shakespeare was a birder be
How would he report his sightings
What praytell, perchance he see....

On the shore of childhood glee
Cold November finds no fishers young
But two clucking mud hens, fair old coots
And wigeons peeping softly
Mallards and a mongrel gull ,
Fish in stubby bill, a grebe-ous act performed (get thee to a punnery!)

On to the manor of the wood
Upon a branch there stood
Gray, great blue heron of noble
pedigree, awaits a fish does he
And headlong down a barky tree
A nuthatch makes his way,
mergansers fluff their hoods
On such, this sunny day
A shaggy braggart bird,
dares call himself kingfisher
Boasts and crows of his catch
And mallards quack a chorus.........


Well, back to HENRY V go I.



Written back in November 1999



LYDIA GAEBE BISHOP

Near Lake Stevens, WA





Life Is A Sit-Com On The Reality Side Of The Tube

And When It's Not A Sit-Com, It's a Soap!



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