Good morning Mister Magpie
My, you’re really quite a looker

Like a mobster from the Mafia
Dressed in best bib and tucker

How striking is your plumage
As you grace us with your presence
Purest white and midnight black
Infused with blue/green iridescence

Some brand you as a villain
Expert thief and bold marauder
With a lust for gold and shiny things
Reputedly a hoarder

All dependent on your numbers
Superstition lingers still
Some regard you as a harbinger
An omen, good or ill

But you’re welcome, with your strident voice
And jaunty Magpie gait
To steal the scraps from our bird table
Or the hedgehog’s meaty plate