The Invasion

The swallows have returned again
And brought some reinforcements,
A sea of birds attacking me
With streams of mud in torrents.

Their little nests are made with love
And glued fast to survive.
With broom I try to chase a pair
Before some more arrive.

They're building everwhere they see
A niche on which to hitch;
Along the porch, upon the eaves,
To them I am a witch

Because I won't allow them to
Build homes above my door.
They bring their straw and mud to glue,
I tear it down once more.

I must be ever vigilant
Before the nests are filled.
I'm not the fiend they think I am.
No hatchlings will be killed.

We have this squabble every spring,
A row I dare not lose
Or I'll be trapped by their intent
To build where ere they choose.

Forgive me please, I've no more time
To sit and play with words.
I must take up my broom and wage
"The Battle of The Birds".

By: Joyce 5/29/08