OLD MEN IN STARRY JACKETS

OLD MEN IN STARRY JACKETS

There’s a crowd of old men in my back garden,

All of them squabbling and jumping about.

They've the most appalling table manners,

Scattering the proffered food I've put out

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 A gait that is so comical and bandy

And they've legs all scrawny and thin.

Eyes of a thief and tongue so sharp,

They make such a terrible din.

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Others, they get the cold shoulder,

Jostled and barged when they try to get food.

The gang of old men in starry jackets,

Like a mob, they can be incredibly rude.

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But, for all their faults and misbehavior,

 To have them around is a pure delight.

A garden full of rainbow speckled starry jackets,

 The Starling is a really beautiful sight.

Phil Hall  April 2013