A Poem
Auld Bert had been out owling
in fact he was all owled out
he'd only stopped for a crafty smoke
before getting back to Owl HQ
to Mrs Owl and the owlets.
His beak had hold of the Rizlas
his claw on the pouch of old gold
and then down the chimney popped Bert
now he wont feeling so bold.
He gazed round the front room like owls do
left and right, up and down
and chanced on the sofa at front
was an ashtray, diligently fashioned in blue onyx
and a packet of fags marked 'Supersonix'
"Don't mind if I do" hooted Berty
whilst lifted said tabs to his mush,
on went remote when a bang hit his throat
what is this tobacco? 'Old Goat'
some arsey wildlife programme
had Bertrand all of a flap
Attenborough and Chris Packham
said Bertie "This is all a pile of crap"
He turned telly over to Iolo
and thought 'Yes, this is the chap'
he understands what it is to be an owl
fair weather or fowl
next time on your pots,
'Put a Cowl'.
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