... and finally, an ode to the pigeon debate by Hazlemere poet Barbara Butcher: I know I’m not a red kite or a starling or a gull But I’m still a living breathing bird That’s destined for your cull.
You say it’s Health and Safety So please tell us where the fright is.
How many people do you know Who’ve caught this ‘pigeonitis’?
You liked us in the war When we delivered letters for you And my cousin, Signor Uccello A well respected fellow, Sent word from St Marks Square To tell us it’s safe there And can’t believe what you’re about to do.
If God knows each little sparrow Is free to fly and peck How can you gas or maim us Or even break our neck?
If you really want to clean our town Then start with drunks and litter And leave us lovely birds alone Because we are God’s critter.
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