Ode to a Peacock.

Up on the hillock,

up on the grassy lock,

up over a marshy  block,

up  at the strike  of the clock,

amidst a happy flock,

there was a  lovely slot.

 

 

A dainty entry from the hills,

with a sharp bill,

with a sapphire fill,

calling in a voice shrill,

made its way in a drill,

it was an enticing dance.

 

 

The colourful feathers spread  grand,

opened up like a  canopy on a land,

throwing out shiny elegance in a brand,

the dense feathers  enchanted the band,

it appeared as an action of a magic wand,

It created a  trance.

 

 

. 

The danseuse beckoned the gaiety of north,

it greeted the pleasantries of south,

it solicited the charm of west,

it bowed to the grace of the oriental east,

 exhibiting  a marvellous feat,

it was a concert best.

 

 

Hopping it went ahead,

jumping  it trotted  back,

elaborating it moved right,

accelerating it speeded left,

displaying a nimble footed treat,

it held everyone in toes.

 
Crooning goes round the peahen

singing tunes of love in tens,

kindling the peacock to  dance  in sevens,

enthralling the spectators to a rhapsodical events,

Good God!  it  was nothing but heavens,

it was a beautiful romance.