It seems so long ago,
that on our deck, apply;
we would scatter seed,
for hungry birds passing by.
In, the winged hungry flew;
seeking the menu de jour;
offering the best we could do;
we were the avian restauranteur.
A few of our customers dined in;
carry out: the choice of the others.
Then we noticed, to our chagrin;
A woodpecker stealing from brothers.
A beautiful creature, this little guy;
he’d damaged the deck: having his fun.
I called out to my wife; I wanted to cry,
Look at what this customer has done!”
Madeline passed by and said with a smile,
“Woody didn’t do it! You’re very wrong!”
Very frustrated; I watched him a while;
I knew he was quite guilty all along.
This went on for days, Woody pecking away,
but when Madeline came by, he was gone.
And when she peeked out, he would still stay;
but he smiled with a devilish yawn.
Now Madeline has died; been gone a few years;
but another younger Woody has come back.
Though I serve the same menu, thru my tears;
younger Woody launched a new sneak attack.
I can almost feel Madeline looking down with a smile;
watching her favorite redhead misfit.
Returning her smile, I stood for a while;
then replied to her, “Dear; Woody did it!”