Poetry

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Those little birds they flutter,and twitter,they
wait outside for some bread,and butter.The other
larger feathered birds,they swoop right down and
make them hop,out of their way and they fly away,
until their larger rivals have flown,onto some
other neighbours lawn,the little ones can reappear,
knowing that the coast is clear,and have more bread
and eat it up,then fly away until they come back
another day,my indoor cat cant scare them away,
so they are welcome to visit any day,and have
some crumbs,of buns,and scones,and maybe some
piece of cake as well.
Joe.

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