The Yaffle green Woodpecker (Picus Viridis) Poem by john (called jack) wren

A laugh rises breaking the still
of the twig strewn field near the mill
and freshly dropped cones here this cry
before decay bids them goodbye.

A laugh that is so full of cheer
must belong to a cavalier
who gaily chatters to a friend
in words man cannot understand.

I n freedom they love to roam
the lawn and field their aerodrome
where ants will scatter in great haste
for they are favoured for their taste.

They hide deep down in the grass
hoping that probing beak will pass
so they can greet another day
and watch the Yaffle on its way.