Cackling Mister Crow
Why do you make sport of me
Making fun of the very hand that feeds
You shop this yard at every morn for-
a free handful of cracked corn , relaxing atop
a public birdbath you've declared to be your very own
Tall pines to bask in the ten o'clock -
sun
Cool grass to hunt , hop , skip -
and run ....

Cackling Old Crow
You son-of-a-gun
Tromping through my garden for -
afternoon fun                                                              ­                                 You're a pirate with wings
A thief that sings
Hiding in a blackberry thicket with -
easy pickings
Standing at the feeder , scaring my chickens ....

Goodnight Mister Crow
Find a tall oak to rest
This farm would not be the same -
without my favorite pest
Do crow's dream I oft wonder
Dreams of airborne pillage and -
plunder