The Stanbrook Abbey Peacock.

I am the Stanbrook Abbey peacock.

Here to spend a lifetime in my own grace

Parading, proclaiming and inspecting my own beauty,

And displaying it to a world that is fortunate to look upon me.

I am a product of intelligent design.

Generations of my forebears,

Proud members of the family Phasianidae and the order Gallifromes,

Have honed to a perfect pitch of beauty

The splendour that is myself alone.

The peacock of peacocks.

When the pale ladies in black and white

Built a shrine to me

Wishing to honour me and share my space,

Unbelievers tried to take me away.

They did not succeed.

I returned time and again to claim my rights.

Until I wore them down.

Finally they bowed to my demands

As I knew they would.

Now, when I appear and rattle my tail feathers in disdain

The pale ladies in black and white bring me offerings

Of food and drink.

They move quietly and respectfully around me,

Just as they should.

Not that I care for their worship.

It is empty flattery

To one such as me, who knows his worth.

I have consorted with many gods,

And found them lacking.

I walk alone through my kingdom,

Head and tail held in perfect balance,

Each foot choosing its place with care.

When the sovereignty of my beauty is threatened

By fools who should know better

I spread my shower of iridescent eyes

Towards their cowering face

And they back away.

They are unsettled by my majesty

And fearful of my cold stare.

They know that they are beaten.

They are cowards.

The spurs I carry above my feet

Are never needed.

The pale ladies in black and white

Have pictures of me in their gift shop

Alongside their other God.

I may in fact be a god myself.

It would not surprise me.

for Richard Moore.

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One comment on “The Stanbrook Abbey Peacock.

  1. Richard says:

    All honour to the peacck. The poet has excelled herself. Xx

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