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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357456" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bird - Seed</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old Pete Parraday, he isn't very wise <br>Or so the local gossips say - They love to criticise<br>His crazy views and values, and the things he counts worth while.<br>'Better had he saved his money,' say his critics, with a smile;<br>'And not become a pensioner with all his silly chat<br>Of finches, wrens and robins, and such trivial thngs as that.<br>It's livin' lonely all these years has filched his brains away.'<br>'An' left me kind o' peacefuller,' grins old Pete Parraday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old Pete Parraday, he sits beside the road<br>Resting from the hefting of his week-end load:<br>Bread and meat and groceries to serve his simple need,<br>And a tiny paper packet with the tag, 'Bird Seed.'<br>'I allus gits three-pennyworth - I've never needed more <br>For them there little Pommy-birds wot hops about me door <br>Goldfinches, starlings an' stranger-folk like they<br>Wot ain't brung up to grubs an' things,' says old Pete Parraday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The robins likes their meal-worms; the blue-wrens tackles grubs;<br>Grey thrushes goes for take-alls like the boozers goes for pubs;<br>But the little vegetarians for food has far to roam;<br> An' so I buys 'em bird-seed to make 'em feel at 'ome <br>Goldfinches, sichlike, them little stranger-folk . . .<br>I know 'ow people counts me soft an' reckons I'm a joke<br>When I talks about me bird friends. I've seed 'em nudge an' wink.<br>But I valyers them there mates o' mine. Cos why? They makes me think.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'They makes me think of beauty, of the glory of the earth,<br>An' they leads me on to dreamin'. An' wot is dreamin' worth?<br>Some folk might call it crazy; but it's heaven's gift to me.<br>Aye, vision sich as never is or was by land or sea.<br>Man cannot live by bread alone, nor dreams be put in words;<br>An', if I'm mad, I'm happy mad, an' talkin' to me birds.<br>Three-pennyworth o' bird-seed counts more to me that way<br>Then all the wealth of Sheba's queen,' says old Pete Parraday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357456" data-title="Bird - Seed de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="Old Pete Parraday, he isn't very wise 
Or so the local gossips say - They love to criticise
His crazy views and values, and the things he counts worth while.
'Better had he saved his money,' say his critics, with a smile;
'And not become a pension..."></div>
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