Majestic bird upon the treetop high,
with pointed crown, he sings a sturdy call.
From branch to rail he spreads his wings to fly,
so proud, with no uncertainty at all.
He struts across the deck with such an air
of stern, defiant grace and darkest eyes.
I watch him feed from seed I've placed with care
in hopes of his return with each sunrise.
His feathers, deepest blues, all blended well
into a beauty few will ever claim.
He leaps into determined flight to dwell
so high up in the aspen's autumn flame.
He's dignified and handsome. Have you heard
the call, so bold, of this majestic bird?
