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.