Our chickadee, his living makes
in northern clime of woods and lakes.
In manner acts precociously;
bold little one, our chickadee.
Through winter, fragile friend stays on,
though days be short, nights endless long;
bravely thrives in life’s deep freeze,
our cheeky little chickadee.
Small dynamo, with black cocked hat,
chatters on of this and that.
Just as perky as you please,
his cheeky chickadee, dee, dee’s.
Must lookout keep for hawk on high
who lazily patrols the sky.
Slightest movement he might see
from jaunty little chickadee.
Lock onto dinner with a glance,
our chickadee won’t stand a chance.
Puff of feathers signals end
of chickadee, our cheeky friend.
No witness to his tragic fate,
no mourner for our tasty mate.
Though one of countless more was he,
we’ll miss his chickadee- dee, dee.
~ Bob McCluskey
