A bright orange glow

you sit in the hedgerow

thinking you are hidden

and will get to catch the forbidden

but little do you know

your gingerness does show

even though you’re so still sitting

your camouflage seems to be what’s missing

You see the birds and can contain the frolics

but I’m sorry Rastas –

You stand out like dog’s bollocks!

You must wonder how come you don’t catch a bird

they must look at you and think you’re absurd

You’ll never catch them in your bright orange coat

Or feel their silky feathers in the back of your throat

I’ve seen the odd field mouse stiff on the bricks

but I just know, that’s not how you want your kicks

A crispy crunchy sparrow or a larger tasty minor

or perhaps a tender inside bird, something a little finer…

© Kait King, 2015