The Puffin

One hundred feet high, and soaring in flight, flies the gull beside the cliff face
Chugging along far below, the puffin you know he won’t win the race
Eyes keen as a falcons the gull spots the puffin and wheels around, it plunges down, and down
It screeches out a scream, to attack it is bound. With delight it dives on the bird,
The puffin looks up and spots the gull and tries to chug faster on it’s dumpy wings
Struggling to gain any speed, knowing the need to survive this attack in one.
Then looking back it sees the gulls flight approaching it’s tail feathers when,
Desperate, it descends to try and gain speed, flapping the air with its wings
As the gull approaches it’s yellow beak opens and stretches its neck to attack
It snaps at the puffin like a big bully ruffian, only to snap a thin air
The puffin gains speed and lands in the reeds, hidden from the gulls beady eyes
The gull flies around listening for a sound, but the puffin just sits there and waits
The gull circles around occasionally swoops down, but the just sits there and waits
The gull then gives up enough is enough, it flies away out to sea
No puffin for me, I’ll just have see if a fish I can get for my tea.