Normally I send poems out to magazines and websites, before I put them on here, hoping an editor will take them, so it’s not only me who thinks there’s something in them. With this one, I have no idea where I’d send it, or what chance it would have – perhaps it would be seen as too whimsical or daft. Also, sometimes I can’t take the long, long wait for a response. So here it is, ‘The Keypad Thieves’ (by the way, I do actually quite like magpies).
The Keypad Thieves
Last night, magpies stole a piece of keypad,
today it’s just a hole, beneath the ‘4’ and ‘5’
I hoped to use a ‘T’ instead, but the ctows complained,
the tooks, the tavens too – a family left unhappy
That said, not all cotvid siblings feel the same,
jackdaws, jays and choughs don’t mind that much at all
Unlike small common avians who fumed and took it bad,
‘T’ might suit a tobin, ted chest shining out of bushes
It’s next to useless when it comes to wtens, to statlings,
spattows, patakeets – what options do they have?
Those stone voiced magpies have also wounded music,
hollow and diminished, with tock n’ toll and teggae gone
Tap too, Hip hop, folk and disco, classical, pop cling on,
yet no gtime, gtunge, no countty, means tadio sounds flat
Good news is – love and sex abide, although tomance is dead,
but who knows what those thieving pica picas plan on taking next?
I can’t guess the key, I suppose ‘E’ would be the biggest loss,
‘A’ would be a tough one, even ‘X’ and ‘Q’ wouldn’t go unmissed
Let’s be thankful then, all life’s not a magpie magnet keypad,
because those black and white assassins may be coming soon fot ‘U’.