Two black and white choristers
visit us each morning,
tuxedoed chests puffed,
heads tilted to one side.

We broadcast mince
which they attack greedily,
sharp beaks clicking,
black feet scurrying.

When breakfast is over,
they pose, side by side,
(like Domingo and Pavarotti)
stretch their black and white necks
and chortle magnificently.

Alison Cassidy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-morning-melody/