Noisy Noisy

Noisy Noisy

BY JACK PRELUTSKY
It’s noisy, noisy overhead,
the birds are winging south,
and every bird is opening
a noisy, noisy mouth.
They fill the air with loud complaint,
they honk and quack and squawk—
they do not feel like flying,
but it’s much too far to walk.
Text © 2000 Jack Prelutsky. Used by Permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
Source: It’s Raining Pigs and Noodles (HarperCollins Publishers Inc, 1993)