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Cockerel.
Contributed by
cashfan1
on
Saturday, 10th July 2010 @ 10:09:40 AM in AEST
Topic:
NaturePoetry
|
The cockerel was burnished gold and brown,
Plump with pride and unconcealed rage.
Each morning as the dawn flushed the sky of darkness
He sounded a battle cry,
A racuos crowing that could crack a window at 15 paces.
Then at 7am the farmer's wife encroached on his kingdom,
Opened the flap of his castle,
And he emerged, red faced and crimson combed,
Strutting a dominance akin to an old major in far flung days of empire.
And as she scattered grain he watched, preening his fine feathers,
Then, propelled by rage and arrogance,
He lifted himself a foot off the ground
And flung himself at the back of her fleshy legs.
And she, with well practised nonchalance, flapped him away,
Rushed at him until he turned at the edge of his kingdom,
Crowed and crowed and crowed again
Until I was sure the sky would shatter and rain down on us.
And with one last crow of defience
Strutted away to join his ladies and each in turn
Were shown the colour of his dominence.
The status quo restored, he retired to the shade of an apple tree,
Plump again with rage and pride regained.
Copyright ©
cashfan1
... [
2010-07-10 10:09:40]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Cockerel.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Spike on
Sunday, 11th July 2010 @ 05:09:01 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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I had one just like him, growing up. Pushed my dad too far one day and WHACK!
Tough old bird, but we ate him just the same.
thanks for the shared memory trip, nicely detailed.
Spike |
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Re: Cockerel.
(User Rating: 1 )
by spud on
Sunday, 11th July 2010 @ 08:26:43 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Hi,
A wonderful poem - witty and playful. Reminds me
of the shennanigans of some of our international
celebrated ''role models'' and their fragile egos.
Nice one!
Tommy
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