Sonnet CXXXIV

The taps upon the roof remind me hence
to look outside the window happily
and greet my lovely guests, who holler whence.
It makes me very glad to see them screech.
They looked so sullen on the wooden fence;
it does them good to be so filled with glee.
And yelling in their dialect no sense
upon my roof, they stamp with heavy feet.

I love my crows (or ravens, I don’t know).
They bring me joy with antics strangely done
and I, of course, indulge them with my laugh
and mimic them. We loudly, brashly crow.
We have a lot of gibberish and fun.
Then leaving to our duty, end our chaff.