I saw one day a ptarmigan,
A tiny little bird.
In relation to a foot,
It was about a third.

There was no surprise then
To see it getting flustered
When it ran into the chest
Of a big old bustard.

Now in relation to a foot
IT's scale is one to one.
To bring the scale down to a third,
We see the bustards son.

The ptarmigan was worried,
Anxious of its plight,
For he was staring up the nose
Of a foot and a third of fight!

He needn't have been worried.
He could have had some fun.
For bustards really are slow,
And they do not fly, they run.

11/30/2007