Jay-Dee the Parrot-Crow

Playfully explores the pitfalls of bluster, missteps in leadership, and the power of thoughtful speech in a noisy world. Jay-Dee the Parrot-Crow rises with mimicry and noise, but blunders through the forest with gaffes and broken toys. As feathers fly and patience thins, he learns that wisdom isn't loud—it's knowing when not to begin.

By Ross Boulton

In a tree near the top of the Capitol Pines,

Lived Jay-Dee the Parrot-Crow, master of lines.

He’d mimic Eagle the Loud with a caw and a flap,

Though his facts often twisted like twigs in a trap.

“I’ll speak with no notes!” he declared with a cheer,“

Just thoughts in my head and the truth in my ear!”

But one day in public, with eyes all around,

He mixed up Abbey Gate with a rock-music sound.

He squawked, “It’s Abbey Road where the soldiers stood tall!”

The forest fell silent... then chuckled in all.

Old Whimsy the Squirrel nearly fell from his tree,“

He thinks The Beatles fought wars? Oh, mercy me!”

Then later, while lifting a trophy of gold,

He hoisted too high and—CLONK!—lost his hold.

The top spun like feathers, the base took a fall,

'Til a fox in a jersey gave chase down the hall.

“I meant to do that!” Jay-Dee squawked with a grin,

But the trophy now rattled like loose soup within.

Even Eagle the Loud rolled his eyes in defeat,

Murmuring, “Maybe next time... just stay in your seat.”

He then made a stop by the northernmost shore,

Where Maple the Goose gave a wary honk-snore.

Jay-Dee had landed in Greenland unbid,

Though the locals all frowned at the thing that he did.

“Who asked him to come?” the puffins all chirped,

“He’s brought us no gifts, just remarks that feel irked!

”The moose and the muskox turned backs in dismay,

While a narwhal just vanished and swam far away.

To cap off his tumble, he flubbed with a sneer—

Called folks “peasants” from Tao the Tiger’s frontier.

The jungle went silent, then growled back with pride:

“Our tools build your forest—don’t mock those who stride.”

Jay-Dee the Crow tried to cover his tracks,

But Tao just blinked slowly, with claws on the facts.

“Words have their weight,” the Tiger purred low,“

And flapping your beak doesn't mean you know.”

At last came the Buzzard Flock, circling slow,

Muttering, “Maybe... but do we say no?”

While Clerk Pip the Owl, his feathers a-flutter,

Cried, “If truth doesn’t matter, then what guides our utter?”

🪶 The Moral, dear reader? It’s simple and true:

Before shouting loud, think your words through.

A voice full of echo may ruffle the crowd,

But wisdom speaks softly—and still stands proud.

So if you're a parrot with dreams taking flight,

Don’t just repeat—learn to listen just right.

For loudness may dazzle, but wisdom will glow,

And the smartest of voices know when not to crow.

And up in the branches, with paws full of news,

Whimsy the Squirrel gave a giggle and muse:

“You wouldn’t believe what I just saw—

A crow learned a lesson... and followed this law!”