Thursday 9 January 2014

WINGED BALL:



The music of sweet breezes, resound within soft air,
The sky was blue & sun was warm, the day balmy & fair,
Choral voices echoing, from all sky´s fine feathered choirs,
Fledglings watch neb-gaped, from overhead taut wires.

Ravens in silk ebon gowns, sashayed through heaven´s halls,
All birds arrived two by two, to God´s spring feathered ball,
Swans in pearly satins, tits in blue & flamingoes in their pinks,
Parrots in gaudy garbs & old crows dressed in midnight inks.

The waiters, they were penguins, all strutting black & white,
Tropical coloured friends from far afield, a fest for weary sight,
And all the birds of paradise, in gaudy gowns of rainbow hues,
Shrikes painted in scarlet kisses & those little birds in cyan blues.

 Dancing, dipping & waltzing, through weathered wafting winds,
All mantled in feathered finery, far finer than furry skins or fins,
Trailing trains of tails, in flying arabesques of gentle plumes,
Up, up & away they dance, to heaven´s ballet of milky moons.

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