A Magpie Muses

A poem from the point of view of the only magpie living in Shetland 

Gannets and guillemots throng in their thousands,
Screeching and squawking across the cliffs,
While from the rocky ledge below,
Puffins gently rise and float free.

The Bat That Bit

Yes, I’m the one: the bat that bit,
An act that landed quite a hit,
If I had known what would unfold,
Perhaps I’d not have been so bold.

Since all of you love global travel,
It didn’t take long for life to unravel,
At first the spread felt fairly slow,
But by mid-March was in full flow.


You fed me with a spoon that day,
For the first time.  A tear in your eye,
Delight at that memorable milestone,
And all those yet to come –
Such as learning to talk and handle a fork.
Then, I’d make that walk to school and see
My world open up in the blink of an eye.
All guided by you, my loving mum.

Not Working

There are few jobs left for the boys,
nobody can relax,
even if some do find work,
we make them pay more tax.

Face the fierceness of cuts ahead,
girls crash glassy ceilings,
bosses say ‘I must let you go’,
no room at all for feelings.


You’re hiding down there in the dust and the dirt,
A parcel of Helmand, all primed to deliver,
In that split second you burst through the sand,
Searing and ripping your random selection,
Somebody’s future sucked up in your swirl,
So his family soon will be softly informed.