The Bird Gets the Last Word
You stay down there, and I’ll just sit
Up on my perch, whistle and chirp
And warble ’til you throw a fit
Because I’m being such a twerp—
I’ll flap and flutter, cheep and caw
And drive you right out of your tree
Until you want to break the law
And take a shot or two at me—
But I, no matter how you squirm,
Won’t quit my pestering; so far,
I’m winning, you poor lowly worm,
And soon I’ll also strafe your car.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Strafes my car, my garage door and bedroom window (how I will never know). Mind you my rascals don’t look as handsome as yours. Great words and of course great art.
I am pretty certain that some birds have mystical powers for shooting their output in ways that defy the laws of gravity, never mind decorum!!! Naughty little creatures. 😉
Glad you liked my homage to the miscreants anyway! 😀
🙂
😉
However did getting “strafed” come to be good luck? Obviously, it’s all BS.
Sorry, Kathryn. Couldn’t resist. 🙂
Believe me, I am just very, very, very glad that creatures larger than birds don’t have the capacity to fly. Waaaay too much of a “good thing” if *that’s* good luck! 😀