In fancy I hear the male snipe in his courtship display
O'er the rushy fields on a calm night in May
With his tail as he flies he makes a goat like bleating sound
That echoes in the sky above his breeding ground,
Above his breeding ground perhaps 'tis his territory he advertise
That the more sound he make the bigger his size
He sends out a warning across the night sky
To neighbouring snipes who are listening nearby
In the rank grass by the drain her blotched eggs warm neath her breast
His secretive brown wife she sits on her nest
Whilst her mate in the dark sky he flies to and fro
Making goat like bleating sounds to leave other snipes know
That this is his territory and all threough the night
He sends out a warning in the dim moonlight.
No comments:
Post a Comment