I am a turkey with intelligence pretty well stuffed.
With a flock I am the leader, they always obey.
With a flick of my wing they can go or stay.
Occasionally challenged over a mate I have chosen,
Feathers fly there is a blood-spattered commotion.
When parading through our patch,
A human appears which I quickly dispatch.
They do not know what to do with us!
We straddle the road, no car can pass,
As we gobble our objections.
They are scared to alight in case we rush them,
Pecking, striking, bashing them about.
They sit some patiently, others in fury,
As we meander as slowly as possible,
With an occasional stop to preen an itch.
In snowy winter we pathetically gather,
With steam rising from feathers drooping,
Till they say poor things and throw us a snack.
Which we gobble up before poohing straight through.
Leaving we shout our thanks.
Don't worry, we will be back!
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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