Competition

First Prize

The Not-So-Standard Book of Birds
by Elizabeth Waldron
Strathfield, Sydney, NSW

In all the books that I have read
With onomatopoeia
The British birds seem to be bred
To sing “Ave Maria”

But unlike all those avians
Who chirp and tweet and flutter
My birds speak Australian words
Like “Yaaaarrgghhgettorfyabugger!”

While doves bring peace and cooing song
To grace our wedding feasts
The sulphur-crested cockatoos
Are different sorts of beasts.

They’ll strip the palings from your fence
If given half a chance
They’re best enjoyed a mile away
Whilst they “mnyeearp” and dance

And whilst some English birds can’t claim
To sing a lilting air,
Their plumage is, at least, designed
With elegance and flair

The emu, on the other hand,
Whilst grunting “unnnnghuuunghung”
Is only graceful when it puts
Its foot through half your lung

Poor Poe was plagued by “nevermore”
I wish though, that were I
For I am plagued on every beach
With “graack” from wings on high

Delinquent seagulls roam in gangs
For undercover missions
They’ll raid your chips and spoil your lunch
With nasty dispositions

In wartime, gallant pigeons flew
To spy for Allied troops
Their Dickin valour medals
Were displayed in British coops

Our pigeons mumble constantly
While lurching down the street
They’d never win a Dickin
On their clumsy fumble-feet

And although they sit in old gum trees
A kookaburra’s humour
Is vindictive, not a merry laugh
Despite the common rumour.

The ibis raids our rubbish bins,
The magpies steal our loot,
The cassowaries and galahs
Will strip your trees of fruit

These birds have not been idolised
By Wordsworth, Keats or Shelley
But then we are a nation
That has idolised Ned Kelly

Our birds seem to be useless,
Abrasive and uncouth.
In fact, they fit the stereotype
Of our Australian youth

But if you think our birds are strange
Then take a look around
For far worse are our animals
Who lurch across the ground