Mr Pheasant you're a beauty, of that there is no doubt,
just such a shame when you were made they left the brain bit out.
I see you on the road ahead and know it's time to pray
you'll run for safety to the verge, not turn the other way...
But there you go, you daft old bird, charging for my car,
You dice with death, I hold my breath and think how dim you are.
Phew, it's okay! You get away, though it was a little tight,
Things would be so different if you knew your left from right.
Linking up with Victoria's Prose for Thought