Watching, he sits, without motion
With eyes staring, no emotion.
Where trees of green are his disguise
Until he views a tasty prize.
Then strikes with preconceived notion.
Thrill of the hunt, the true potion,
Striking swift without commotion.
Ignorance led to its demise
Watching, he sits..
Witness now to its promotion
Soon suffers nature's demotion.
No one left to hear nature's cries
Now sitting there with watchful eyes.
With eyes staring, no emotion,
Watching, he sits..







4 old applause
