A Cornish Twitch

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We joined a twitch in Cornwall
Not far from Sennen Cove
Looking for a bird that had
Decided far to rove
The twitchers had assembled
With bins and telescopes
Some had crossed the country
Each mile fuelled up with hopes
The word had spread like wildfire
A first class rarity
Drawn from distant India
Cross continents and sea
Light brown Paddy Field Pipit
Was somewhere close no doubt
There had been numerous sightings
It was a decent shout
Some there were who'd seen it
Others thought they might
Have caught a glimpse of something
Which then flashed out of sight
No easy task to spy it
This foreign lbj
And that's a little brown job
As birders like to say
But after stuck in muddy field
For what it seemed was hours
We said that we would head for home
And dodge the squally showers
Before we left a cameraman
Showed us his perfect shot
Like many he had seen it
But sadly we did not.
We joined a twitch in Cornwall
The bird it didn't show
But, oh, across that landscape

The wind it sure did blow.