Planets Of The Peacocks Poem by Tom Billsborough
Planets Of The Peacocks
The song resumes and we must yield to love.
You know the rest, sweet Lady tenderness,
We orbit you, compelling femaleness,
We spin, by gravity compelled to move
Upon the pathways you alone can choose!
We strutting males compulsively parade
Our brilliant feathers fanning in charade
Our timorous egos wishing not to lose
The favour of the peahen watching near
With feigned disinterest until the choice is made
And to the applicants the news conveyed,
The losers, hooked off-stage, and shown the door.
No doubt we will resume the song of love
By gravity we spin, compelled to move.
So I crave indulgence!
Sweet tenderness moves here with flow of spinning love songs. Very wise and interesting poem is drafted here.10
Yes, we find true enchantment in the flow of these songs, usually special to ourselves. Thank you Kumarmani.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 1:03:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
...Our brilliant feathers fanning in charade Our timorous egos wishing not to lose...idea so well rendered