/ Poetry

The visitor

The visitor

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.

The visitor
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