The Heron

by joetwo

Late upon one Winter’s morning

As I walked to get blood warming

I went down to my pond

To see the fish of which I’m fond

Their playful swimming brings me peace

They should, they cost fifty a piece

But instead of fish I got a shock

Perched upon a little rock

In black and white just like a felon

Was a bastard of a heron!

Down this neck there was a lump

The realisation made me jump

This fucker made his breakfast dish

With one of all my little fish

Well that was it, anger exploded

As my fish numbers imploded

Restocking how would be quite foolish

Unless I was that kind of ghoulish

Instead I made my solemn word

To get revenge upon the bird

I bought a trap and air rifle

And as I was not one to trifle

I got a hide and camo-gear

If I was a bird, I’d quake with fear

But the fucker wouldn’t show

Until I deigned perchance to go

For a few minutes at a time

Then he’d eat, the little swine

I put down nets and duck decoys

But it ignored these little toys

And instead the little snot

Would eat then run off like a shot

This is why I write this verse

To stop things from getting worse

This problem I have delegated

Before my fish are decimated

Maybe you can help me out

And in all earnestness I shout

Can you stop this feathered thief

And give my fish friends some relief

But if you can’t it’s just as well

Because this heron’s straight from Hell

And this hobby’s not for me

So I should stick to poetry

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