Mycroft

Mycroft

A strange range of pets were mine as a child,
Tortoise slow and goldfish mild,
A hamster that froze and some fish that got fried
By mistake.

But Mycroft was my budgie.
Named after Sherlock’s brother, a clever bird was he.
He could recite for hours, took long showers and liked to drink your tea.
But Mycroft was my budgie
Bought in Harrogate, not blue or green was he
But grey all over from head to toe, with two black beady eyes to see.
But Mycroft was my budgie
And though he had a golden cage, he lived in our house roaming free
But you could always find him, if you just followed the line of debris.
For just like Sherlock, he always gave away a clue or two -
And mostly it was paper, homework he liked to chew.

Linda Prince