Peacock

A peacock struts with regal grace,

Its feathers spread like a fan's embrace.

Each plume is a work of art and skill,

A rainbow in each quill.

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Its hues, a riot of emerald green,

Beneath the sun, they shimmer and gleam.

But oh, what beauty hides in wait,

For when the peacock elevates.

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Then all its feathers rise up high,

A living, breathing tapestry in the sky.

It dances in a show of pride,

Its splendor is too vast to hide.

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The peacock's beauty does inspire,

Awe and wonder, its feathers conspire,

To create a vision of natural art,

That stirs the soul and warms the heart.

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So when you see a peacock's plume,

Remember the majesty that's in the room.

For this bird is a symbol of grace,

And nature's perfection is on display.