Over A Piece Of Bread

Over a piece of bread - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Fair was the sky Cold was the morn Bright was the day Along the pavement I was walking and listening To my gentle footsteps When I heard his call From above the treetop He was in the trees watching Over a chunk of bread Lying on the pavement He waited my exit from the spot So as to grab the chunk and fly off I drifted just a foot away And saw him on the pavement He looked left and right and cawed Then came in front of a pigeon Over the piece of bread To claim his stake The pigeon looked frightened And he snapped off The bread and flew away Minutes passed Yet the pigeon was poking around Thinking what went wrong to the bread And he was none Other than a crow crooked