The Sad Delusions of Love

For birds, real estate is everything,

that and grooming, of course. 

But then, the two frequently go together;   

Good feathers so often  make for the best houses


He’d found the perfect situation;

wonderful views, just off the flyway,

a ledge that extended improbably outwards

like a beak from the face of the cliff.


Concave in profile, a shallow groove,

that held his body like a spoon,

Lead-lined, with space enough for two   

and the eggs wouldn’t roll off. 


Head to head and groovy, they preened,   .

Locked beaks, they churred, they chuckled,

But passion always ignores the detail,

And the devil lurks in the detail


Water problems; it wasn’t so much rising damp

as a tumbling torrent.  One summer storm

and nest, eggs, chicks the lot would be in the sea.   

But they were in love, and love is always in denial