Fish and chips on the beach
It’s so bossy and loud
and stands out from the crowd
as we gather together to eat.
Dashing forwards and back,
it looks set to attack
every bird homing in on a treat.
It arches its neck
then it rushes to check,
with a glare and a threatening screech,
that the other gulls round
don’t pick up from the ground
what we’ve tossed from our spot on the beach.
So obsessed with the job
of controlling the mob,
it has missed quite a banquet tonight.
It has not had a grip
on a single thrown chip
and it serves the antagonist right!
This poem has everything – rhyme, metre and lots of fun!
Thanks Jenny Erlanger!
Chris Bradshaw
Sent from Mail for Windows 10