His yellow eye is wide open.
He looks startled.
Seeing all. Surveying his current harem
Like a jealous lover.
His plumage is a fine satorial statement
Of his virility and his health.
Dots and ripples on his body
Dazzle his ladies
As he struts and performs.
His teal green neck feathers
Are beautifully iridescent
In the low autumn sun.
Its orange rays kiss
His sharp rapier-like tail feathers.
He marches through his stubbled field like a country squire
And if a rival should dare to approach
He struts sideways, displaying his size and his finery.
Scuffles are sometimes necessary,
Leaping with testosterone fuelled power.
He is master of this bare patch.
The red mask around his moonlight coloured eye
Speaks of a proud bird, always watching,
Ready to dance and fight.
Always watching,
Always beautiful.
******************************
My poem is inspired by the birds I see in a field across the road from a beach where I wild swim. I always admire their exotic beauty, anomalous among the bare stubble of harvested autumn fields.
About the Creator
Deborah Robinson
I'm new to the 'writing for real' scene. Previously, I've kept my poetry and writing under wraps in a fancy notebook, but now I've decided to give it a proper go!
I hope you enjoy my work.
Thanks, Deborah.
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