Kingfisher
Kingfisher


Sitting past the reeds
Upon a willow tree
The kingfisher surveys
His watery larder
With keen polaroid eyes
A victim he spies
And measuring distance
He makes his next move
A flicker in thought
His blue metallic wings
Now do go into action
Such a beautiful thing
Down from the branches
Wings folded back
He darts into the stream
By the banks waters edge
The minnow that was hunting
Has now become the hunted
And out of crystal waters
The kingfisher is victorious
Out of the stream
With feathers to preen
After a hearty fill
Of minnow and bream