Your chaste white feathers

Your dainty feet

Your dazzling eyes the colour of heathers

As you gift us a precious tweet.


You hold an olive branch

One dedicated to peace

Your feathers seem more bleached

As they swing in the breeze.


Young lavender eyes sparkle

Unlike that of a hawk’s

Your coat seems to bristle

Are you trying to talk?

You are my muse, my model, my favourite bird

You are an angel in disguise

You seem to destroy and calm discord

As you flap your wings, hoping to rise.


You’re my inspiration, my cherub, the bird I hold dear

You’re the goddess of harmony, the kindest animal

You’re the puzzle piece, the last gear

You bless us with concord, very admirable.


You’re a disguise of Fortuna, the spreader of Fortune

Your coos are melodic to the ear

You shun fighting and war, discord and torture

You’re the defender of serenity, the Peaceful Musketeer.


Plastic Dreams

Plastic dreams 

Where will you find them?

Certainly not a land

With smiles, giggles and beams

You could rampage the music genre

And ransack the plastic recycle bin

But you will not find Plastic Dreams

Anywhere, I dare.

You could steal every turntable

Or peek into the speakers

But I dare say you won’t find them,

Because no one is able

Plastic Dreams is in our minds

To rejoice when we are musical

It turns the turntable of our minds

But is a tune no man could define

Plastic Dreams is in our heart

To blare from the stereo of our love

It turns the turntable of our feelings

Unknown to man, but bringer of delight