Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

On Sunday the hawk fell on Bigging
And a chicken screamed
Lost in its own little snowstorm.
And on Monday he fell on the moor
And the Field Club
Raised a hundred silent prisms.
And on Tuesday he fell on the hill
And the happy lamb
Never knew why the loud collie straddled him.
And on Wednesday he fell on a bush
And the blackbird
Laid by his little flute for the last time.
And on Thursday he fell on Cleat
And peerie Tom’s rabbit
Swung in a single arc from shore to hill.
And on Friday he fell on a ditch
But the rampant rat,
The eye and the tooth, quenched his flame.
And on Saturday he fell on Bigging
And Jock lowered his gun
And nailed a small wing over the corn.

Archie Bevan – Have you ever heard about the recitation of that poem at the school concert?
Mackay Brown – No.
Archie Bevan – Yes that was one of the ones . . .
Mackay Brown – Oh I see.
Archie Bevan – They even brought in a shotgun for the occasion!
Mackay Brown – Oh, made it realistic.
Archie Bevan – Much to the alarm of the natives!
Mackay Brown – Oh Lord.
Archie Bevan – They loved doing that one.