A poem for David Attenborough’s 100th birthday

Selected poems

Life of a Naturalist

it’s his birthday
and the sloths are up early for once
the flamingos line up in pink, long-legged salute
the birds of paradise parade in their finest
the elephants blow their trumpets
the blue whales gush with joy
the gorillas act out stories of his visits
the lions lay off the wildebeest for one day
and stand together on the Serengeti plain
the lyre birds sing his voice in tribute
the seals cannot stop clapping
and the ostriches urge us
to listen to him
and not bury our heads in the sand

Wild Weekend

Selected poems

Sunday – and the squirrels are lazing in their branches,
the sheep are congregating for morning service,
and the bears are sleeping off their sore heads.

The sloths are taking things slow, the hippos are wallowing,
the cats are curling up on the newspaper in front of the television.
The alpacas will spend the day in their fluffies.

Not everyone is taking it easy. The deer are up already
for a walk around the park. The ducks are planning a trip
across the lake. The salmon have gone wild swimming.

The snails are pottering about the garden, while the crows
scan its aisles for materials and a spot of DIY. The pigeons have split
up: some are hanging around the shopping centre,

others intend to spend the afternoon at the Test match.
The lions are having an old friend over for dinner, the camels
are baking, the spiders are browsing their webs, and the humans…

the humans are wondering where the weekend has gone
as they stave off the prospect of another beastly Monday,
questioning the natural order of things.