Our woodpecker is here again:
pecking the lawn like a corn-crazed hen,
flaunting his stylish grass-green gown,
his red cap bobbing up and down.
He stabs and stabs at the turf for ants,
turning around in a circle-dance.
Like Lawrence and his famous snake,
I feel so honoured, this lunch-break.
Visit us often, rebel guest,
republican from tail to crest.
Oh beautiful anarchic creature,
stay on our lawn as a garden feature –
cocking a snook at Church and Crown,
waking this soporific town.