Here's Alison: Alfie The Budgie
Alison Ross mourns a departed budgie. For more of Alison's zestful poems please click on Here Comes Alison in the menu on this page.
A little puff of feathers
Sort of inky blue
A cheeky little smart-arse
Who really grew on you.
He had dreadful table manners
Seed flew low and high
But you constantly forgave him
Though you often wondered why.
You couldn’t just ignore him
For he’d really shout you down
Demanding that you were
Audience, for his clown.
His sex life was unmentionable
I am not sure he wasn’t gay
For he tried to have it off
In a most peculiar way.
Then suddenly he’s gone
While his cage just empty lies
And you cannot think about him
Without the tears close to your eyes.
But with everything you love
There comes a time of test
It’s better to have loved and lost
Than not to know the best.
And you really must admit it
He was just a natural clown
A puff of feather budgie
But the very best in town!
