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That magpie, strutting round my lawn,
      With sharp and piercing eyes;
With glossy plumage, black and white -
     The small birds all despise.

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Inspect those feathers in the sun:
    They’re not just black and white.
See, vivid greens and purple tints,
     And blue that’s shining bright.

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His iridescent plumage hides
     His shrewd and artful ways.
This scavenger, this predator,
     Views baby birds as prey.

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Look at that tail!!  It’s half his length.
     His chattering fills the air.
He’s watching out for fledgling young!
     Mothers!  Take good care!

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Whilst he impresses human eyes,
      With colour and physique,
The smaller birds know all too well
      That cruel and powerful beak.

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We humans scorn his thieving ways,
      And view his life with hate,
Yet, frowning on the life he leads,
      Eat chicken from our plate.

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Copyright on all my poems

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Note:  iridescent:  Something that is iridescent has many bright colours that seem to keep changing.

 

 

 

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