#birds #kestrel #poetry
A Kestrel came a calling
on a summers Sunday morn
it was on a hunt for squeakers
as its chicks had just been born
A Kestrel came a calling
diving on the roof
pinching the spoils of the locals
attacking with claw and tooth
A Kestrel came a calling
the neighbours wondered why
it was swooping and soaring over all the lawns
and looking for treats to try
A Kestrel came a calling
it sat on the bough of a tree
and you might have guessed, it had a nest
housing small kestrels one, two and three
So, the kestrels they stopped calling
having found themselves a nest
and now living in a tall tree in Salford
A place they like the best
The Inkwell 