C J RICHARDSON WRITER - HISTORICAL FICTION
“Too whit my dear husband, please hurry, make haste
All three eggs have hatched, there is no time to waste.
The table is empty, not a bite in the house.
Put your skills to the test; bring a vole or a mouse.”
“Too whoo dearest wife, I’ll do better than that.
I’ll fetch a plump rabbit or big juicy rat.
I’ll hunt through the night to feed my young brood.
My family will dine on the choicest of food.”
“Too whit darling husband, the morning is here,
But the third little chick is struggling I fear.
He needs food right now to build up his size.
His two bigger brothers think he’s food in disguise.”
“Too whoo precious one, I’m trying my best.
I’ve been flying all night but I’ll go without rest.
I’ll hunt through the day to bring you a treat.
Do you fancy a bat or rich squirrel meat?”
“Too whit my brave bird, chick three is no more
and the biggest has pinned number two to the floor.
Come home with a shrew before it’s too late
And this other chick befalls the same fate.”
“Too whoo dearest dear, I’ll try harder tonight.
I’m tireder than tired but I’ll hunt till its light.
I’ll fetch you some food, I promise, It’s true.
A goat or a lamb I will bring home to you.”
“Too whit silly man, chick one ate chick two.
Now bring something quick, a beetle will do.
There’s only one son that you now need to feed
He’s looking at me, his eyes full of greed.”
“Too whoo darling mine, I’ve finally come.
I brought you that shrew son... Where is your Mum?
Goodness me boy, you’re looking so fat
And why do you stare at your father like that?”