Looking through my window, I watch in awe at the politics and antics of the back garden parliament.
Privileged Pigeons, like fat politicians, waddle through ethereal arboretum lobbies, to seeded commissions, unseen by human eye.
While Eurasian Jays announcing their opposition, arriving on azure wings their beauty belying.
But it is the Robin and Chaffinch, that lead the opposition, chattering,
Chasing, effervescing, bouncing like the sunbeams through a Blackthorn thicket.
Forming choral committees, in division lobbies, filibustering with impudicity, their dummy bills appeased.
Meanwhile Thrush’s like hesitant lobbyists, hop in and out of sight, nervous on the floor, for fear of some charge of contempt.
Before being banished by bouncing Black Rod Blackbirds whose prorogations clear the floor from all intents
All the while the feline sleeping speaker who’s never caught eye, lies basking, oblivious to avian aspirations and to lobbyist laments.
