The finches lined up on my picket fence
To tell me that no food the feeders contained
They were hungry, mad and a little demanding
The food I poured in yesterday, they had already drained
I looked around and said aloud
Hey, there is plenty to eat that Mother Nature provides
Twice a week, the feeder gets filled to the brim
Learn to control your portions and your appetite subsides
My speech seemed to have no effect
Even my dogs looked at me as if it were a lost cause
The cardinals came to finches’ defense
Their incessant chirping they did not pause
So, as birds on the fence watched with delight
I took the feeder and headed to the shed
Filled it once again in front of their eyes
And their angry chirps turned to applause instead
I kid you not; I saw their wings clapping
And they chirped the word that feeding had been restored
Sparrows, finches and a few mourning doves flew in
To devour the seed mix -- their personal smorgasbord
As they attacked my feeder, I made it clear
That would be the last fill for a while
They pretended not to hear; they were devouring the food
No thank you; no nod; not even a smile
Within hours, the feeder was empty again
And the finches lined up and began their chirpy vent
I told them no way; find another neighborhood sap
No more food this week unless they were willing to pay rent
Will my feathered friends hold a grudge?
No, they will be back when there is more seed
I know where we stand; their songs will return to my yard
As long as I keep them supplied with feed