I have read some amazing poetry these last two weeks. So to the challenge I rise. Flick back through my notebook, looking for something that resembles poetry.

 

 

Trespassers

I am not sure why those two think they have permission to be in my garden

 Not for one moment is it okay.

They have the run of the yard – it is never enough!

 What treasure do they expect to find hidden beneath the  mulch?

They are oblivious to the hours spent spreading it there

As they uncaringly push it aside.

When I address them they turn their backs on me,

Showing their feathered bottoms.

They best be careful –

Or they will end up as chicken pie!