Magpies
by Rica Chowdhury
Along the road the magpies walk
With hands in pockets left and right,
They tilt their heads. And stroll and talk,
In their well-fitted and white.
They look like certain gentlemen
Who seem most nonchalant and wise
Until their meal is served and then
What clashing beak, what greedy eyes!
But not one man that I have heard
Throws back his head in such a song
Of grace and praise – no man, nor bird
Their greed is brief; their joy is long.
For each is born with such a throat
As thanks his God with every note.
Home 16/08/2006
