It Mewled For Scraps…
I thought it might have been the Philadelphia spread
Of garlic and chives, or perhaps even the buttered fruit scone,
Which had caught the attention of an interloper and had led
To the appearance of an avid audience of, er, just one…
A rook fidgeted on a rock a couple of metres to my right
In an awkward pose, agitated, its eyes fiercely staring.
Its loud scolding rasps, seemingly writhing with spite
Were accompanied by writhing, squirming and glaring…
Then, unsuccessful in attaining sustenance from my lunch,
The corvid began to emit a high pitched kind of howl, Impersonating a hungry puppy, doubtless with a hunch
That a mournful appeal would fare better than an ugly scowl…
Nothing was offered to it and nothing was received, so the barking rook
Took flight to invade the space of two more humans eating food.
And this time, something was proffered, it snatched the morsel and took
Flight, over my head, no doubt to make a point, which I considered rather rude…
Pete Ray
6th October 2025…
Sitting eating lunch at Dollar Cove, near Gunwalloe Church, Lizard Peninsula.
The rook was almost pleading with its weird mewling sound.
I thought it was rather a cool corvid, in truth…
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