Hot on the heels of the celebration of St Iredna who was sucked to death by snails, last week saw the anniversary of the death of Henry V111's Poet Laureate Skelton, whose most moving work was a poem addressed to his sparrow Philip after it had eaten by a cat.

I played with him, tittle-tattle,
And fed him with my spattle,
With his bill between my lips,
It was my pretty Phips.
Many a pretty kusse
Had I off his sweet musse.
And now the cause is thus,
That he is slain me fro,
To my great pain and woe.'