Royalty perched on the
bare birch this morning,
neatly costumed in scarlet
and shamrock green.
A pair of king parrots
with silvery voices
fluttered so close
I could have touched them.
They took the seed daintily,
not rudely like the crimsons
who squabble and squeak
like cheap bath toys.
Their soft fragile beauty
filled me with awe and
champagne bubbles
danced in my eyes.
The royals won’t stay.
They’ll be off in a couple of days,
but while they’re around,
I shall delight in their reign in my garden.
Leave a Reply