To read the latest issue, click 'Issues by year' in the menu above

She pushed in the door of the bird shop
Around about ten o’clock;
She went in to buy a cockatoo
But they were all out of stock.
Nor did they have any parrots,
Nor budgies nor parakeets,
Just a few bad-tempered seagulls
Sitting around on seats.
She made to go to the exit,
Vowing she’d never return,
When the shopkeeper came up behind her
And gave her a nasty tern.

Little robin redbreast

Little robin redbreast
sitting on the fence,
chirruping his tuneful song
though the snow is dense.

Hark! His song has altered
to a plaintive bleat –
little robin redbreast
cannot move his feet.

(Bird Shop is from A Flash of Orange, a collection of Peter Goulding’s verse.)