I'm having a problem with this one because I can't decide where it's aimed - and possibly the writer can't either, and is trying to have it two ways. I want to love it because it's a silly spoof of silly bird call descriptions - but it's not quite silly enough. And I want to admire it as a frenzied tribute to a birdacious, bird-filled spring - but it's a little too silly.
Basically, I agree with Maryann's read. I think the intent of the poem is to riff off and build on the chaffinch song description in the epigraph - and possibly the problem is that it's almost impossible to surpass that for good old, solid
Rule Brittania inventiveness and dottiness, which may explain my confusion.
In a sense, this poem reminds me of an old Billy Collins favorite,
Litany, (can I mention his name without being booed) which takes a similar approach of playing it straight on the surface, but ridiculing metaphors along the way - but I think the Collins poem is more successful, in a way, because it leaves no doubt that it's a spoof.
I think that if this one were tweaked, with a greater sense of inanity in the comparisons, and a stronger indication of direction, it could be wondrous, As it is, it's a delight, but kind of falls between the cracks for me.