The Strutting Peacock

Clear the way! he's coming by,  
Feathers prinked and standing high.  
Step aside!  make room for him  
Strutting out, upright and prim.  
 
With his nose high in the air  
Gazing here, there, everywhere;  
Wending forward, left then right,  
Proming on, he's such a sight.  
 
He spies his girlfriend in the kale,  
He heads her way and fans his tail.  
A thousand eyes appear to see...  
But she has only eyes for he.  
 
He inches close in his best livery,  
Her knees go weak and shaky-shivery.  
She clucks-a-cluck to clear her throat  
As she admires his vibrant coat.  
 
She waits for him to firstly speak  
Before she opens her own beak.  
He finds the spiel (as suitors do),  
Resplendent there in peacock blue.  
 
He hopes there'll be no stormy weather,  
He stretches down and plucks a feather.  
She takes the gift, it makes her colour,  
He's acting like a true bird puller.  
 
Then the farmer comes along  
Chirping out his merry song.  
Scattering corn replete and free  
In a peahen's world - time for tea.