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Ian's Poetic Past |
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If you like birds , as I do,
then this story is just for you.
this affair began when I was six,
when I was the victim of a drunk mans tricks.
I disobeyed a family rule,
and went next door to play after school.
Mum and Dad were at Tamworth shopping,
but when they got home, boy were they hopping.
You see I thought this was an opportune time,
to please myself and cross the line.
I stood fingers through the netting, breast up to the cage,
I was almost mesmerised there at one stage.
There were canaries and finches, and budgerigars too,
I'm sure there was a hundred, may be even two.
Mr Bourke came home as full as a fart,
and at that moment his prank did start.
He said to me "there pretty aren't they mate"
as he stood at the cage just near the gate.
I stood there watching, showing much interest,
he asked me to point out, which one, I liked best.
As I gazed back and forth, trying to focus on one,
my drunken neighbour was having his fun.
As I followed and pointed my favourite bird out,
he said it was difficult to follow as they flew about.
He beckoned me inside the cage, to catch my bird of choice,
and said to me, "you can keep that bird" in a very promising voice.
To capture this bird was my intent,
so he guarded the door as in I went.
He said "I'll go and get a box"
but before he went ,he locked the locks.
He went inside and went to bed,
I thought I was there left for dead.
I was loosing interest in that bird,
and cries of anxiety could be heard.
I'd been there over an hour , when Mrs Bourke returned,
and from her grandchildren, of my plight she learned.
She comforted me as she let me go,
but why I was eager to go home, I'm blowed if I know.
'cause I got a clout or three or four,
for even being in next door.
copyright Ian Langens 1997
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