Corvid erudition

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I wrote most of this poem in about an hour, the first verse at home and then the second and most of the third on a walk into town to pick up the kids from school. I stalled on the walk back and struggled with the third verse for months and nothing really worked until I stumbled on the 'swan','on' couplet and it all fell into place. By the way, I recommend stopping reading after the third verse - the fourth verse is a niche indulgence and I couldn't resist the puns. Seriously. Don't read on after the third verse unless you are a fan of the history of mathematics. Even then, it's probably best to quit after verse three.

Corvid Erudition

I'm afraid that a puffin,

Knows nuffin 'bout nuffin,

And to say owls are wise?

A complete pack of lies,

Your average crane,

Has a very small brain,

But there's nothing a crow doesn't know.

You'll find that a thrush,

Is as daft as a brush,

And the scope of a sparrow,

Intellectually narrow,

The dim-witted tern,

Is so slow to learn,

But there's nothing a crow doesn't know.

In the head of a swan,

There's not much going on,

And sadly the kite is,

Hardly the brightest,

The grouse and the plover?

Each as thick as the other,

But there's nothing a crow doesn't know.

I once asked a crow,

If he could show,

That if two cubes you add,

A third can't be had.

To tell you the truth,

He showed me a proof,

So elegant and wise,

It brought tears to my eyes,

'Fore I could recover,

He'd shown me another,

His speed gave me smiles,

'Cos it should take a Wiles,

It's just a pity this poem,

Is too short to show 'em,

And the margin's too thin,

To fit them both in,

And therefore you must,

Just take it on trust,

That there's nothing a crow doesn't know.

By Pete Thomas