COPPER CROC W&WA winner
Posted: Sat May 03, 2014 1:04 am
The Copper Croc 'Wild and Wonderful Australia' Winner:
'Cuckoo Clock' © 2014 Ann Hobson
Repetitive, querulous, strident the sound
alarming, awakes me from slumber profound.
Harmonious birdsong of early daylight
drowned out by a brat loudly squawking its plight.
A quivering mass of perpetual screech
is screaming blue murder at all and at each.
The Channel-billed voice box and hunger contrive
to demand its crow parents must keep it alive.
The baby’s too big to stay on in the nest.
At this size it's time to put wings to the test.
The patient crow parent flies off with some food
in the hope that the grub will be hotly pursued.
But with flapping and lurching and tumbling around
the clumsy young cuckoo ends up on the ground.
The rescuing crow leads the way at a hop:
with food in its beak, coaxes babe to the top.
From there a crow junior should launch into flight
but the cowering, screeching show things aren’t quite right.
You’d think they’d have noticed it’s white, brown and grey
with some ungrateful habits young crows don’t display.
Instead the crow parents frenetically search -
wear their beaks to the bone to calm shrieks from the perch.
As they thrust the food into a cavernous maw
they’ve got to dodge fast or be ripped by a claw.
The beak, everlastingly open to take,
screams wild with an appetite nothing can slake.
The crow, who is frantically driven by love,
rushing in with a morsel, is given a shove.
The cantankerous din misses barely a beat
as it gobbles the grub or some rare tasty treat.
Then showing disdain, squatting high in the tree,
begins spraying white faeces without changing key.
The empty space now in that copious gut
engenders such shrieks you’d think throats had been cut.
The parenting crow, being eager to please,
seeks out some new morsel in neighbouring trees.
In spite of the fact that the cuckoo can’t fly,
it flutters and tumbles to land quite close by.
Its clumsiness seems to confirm to the crow
that its monstrous offspring is ‘just a bit slow’.
Each morning this upstart alarms with its woes,
increasingly raucous as larger it grows.
Its muscles grow strong and its wingspan grows wide
until ungainly tumbles turn into a glide.
With the practice it’s had taking swipes at its Dad,
the terrified novice starts flapping like mad.
The crows, in relief, aark their joyful delight
that their costliest project has taken to flight.
They’d neither collapsed nor reduced to despair,
but have got their gross nestling to take to the air!
There are piteous shrieks as they chase it away
on its long journey north where we’d wish it might stay.
Best savour respite from cacophonous ring –
this ‘chicken’ will surely come ‘home’ in the spring.
'Cuckoo Clock' © 2014 Ann Hobson
Repetitive, querulous, strident the sound
alarming, awakes me from slumber profound.
Harmonious birdsong of early daylight
drowned out by a brat loudly squawking its plight.
A quivering mass of perpetual screech
is screaming blue murder at all and at each.
The Channel-billed voice box and hunger contrive
to demand its crow parents must keep it alive.
The baby’s too big to stay on in the nest.
At this size it's time to put wings to the test.
The patient crow parent flies off with some food
in the hope that the grub will be hotly pursued.
But with flapping and lurching and tumbling around
the clumsy young cuckoo ends up on the ground.
The rescuing crow leads the way at a hop:
with food in its beak, coaxes babe to the top.
From there a crow junior should launch into flight
but the cowering, screeching show things aren’t quite right.
You’d think they’d have noticed it’s white, brown and grey
with some ungrateful habits young crows don’t display.
Instead the crow parents frenetically search -
wear their beaks to the bone to calm shrieks from the perch.
As they thrust the food into a cavernous maw
they’ve got to dodge fast or be ripped by a claw.
The beak, everlastingly open to take,
screams wild with an appetite nothing can slake.
The crow, who is frantically driven by love,
rushing in with a morsel, is given a shove.
The cantankerous din misses barely a beat
as it gobbles the grub or some rare tasty treat.
Then showing disdain, squatting high in the tree,
begins spraying white faeces without changing key.
The empty space now in that copious gut
engenders such shrieks you’d think throats had been cut.
The parenting crow, being eager to please,
seeks out some new morsel in neighbouring trees.
In spite of the fact that the cuckoo can’t fly,
it flutters and tumbles to land quite close by.
Its clumsiness seems to confirm to the crow
that its monstrous offspring is ‘just a bit slow’.
Each morning this upstart alarms with its woes,
increasingly raucous as larger it grows.
Its muscles grow strong and its wingspan grows wide
until ungainly tumbles turn into a glide.
With the practice it’s had taking swipes at its Dad,
the terrified novice starts flapping like mad.
The crows, in relief, aark their joyful delight
that their costliest project has taken to flight.
They’d neither collapsed nor reduced to despair,
but have got their gross nestling to take to the air!
There are piteous shrieks as they chase it away
on its long journey north where we’d wish it might stay.
Best savour respite from cacophonous ring –
this ‘chicken’ will surely come ‘home’ in the spring.