Origin of Peacocks

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australian formal poetry, australian poetry, Australian traditional poetry, evolution, Formal poetry, peacock, poem, poetry

Photo © Barbara Blakey Photography

A microbe swimming in the sea
Morphed suddenly into a flea.
It swam to shore but nearly drowned
Before collapsing on dry ground,
And when it was quite warm and dry
It transformed to a dragonfly.
The dragonfly thought this absurd
And turned into a tiny bird,
Of length just barely half an inch
But in a blink it was a finch
That quickly changed into a hawk
That instantly became a stork,
Replaced in seconds by an eagle
Soaring high and rather regal,
But quite soon the eagle changed,
With its tail feathers rearranged
Into a lovely work of art,
Relecting not, its humble start.
And so did all the changes cease,
For there displayed – the masterpiece:
‘Twas evolution on steroids;
Formed in a flash – The King of Boids.

Poem © Dennis N. O’Brien, 2013

Funeral Insurance

Tags

Formal poetry, Funeral Insurance, poem, poetry

The talkin’ heads keep tellin’ me
(those sincere bastards on T.V.)
I should protect the wife and sprogs
In case one day I pops me clogs

By takin’ out a policy
That pays when they dispose of me;
To mitigate financial pains
Of scatterin’ me poor remains.

When I first saw the light o’ day;
When I was born – I didn’t pay
A fee upfront ta breathe the air;
I was debt free – I’d not a care.

So when I leave I won’t be payin’.
Charge the livin’ – them that’s stayin’.
Them what’s mentioned in me will;
When I check out – they pays the bill.

© Dennis N. O’Brien, 2013

Different

Tags

different, poem, poetry

We think him strange; he really doesn’t fit we say.
Although he is quite bright he never tops his class.
He does things his own way so doesn’t get the highest pass,
And when the boys and girls go out to play
He keeps more to himself and doesn’t seem
To quite fit in – has no desire to join a team.
And so I had a talk with him the other day:
He seems to me to live his life within a dream,
Though he is not unhappy, and he has high self-esteem.
Perhaps things we think black and white, to him are merely shades of grey;
Somehow I think he wouldn’t have it any other way.

© Dennis N. O’Brien, 2013

image from morguefile.com