No doubt the haughty peacock is pretty self-possessed,
He expects each hen that meets him to be terribly impressed.
He struts his way around upon the grass, and flourishes his tail,
Knowing that his gorgeousness is never known to fail.
The fascinating 'eyes' grow wide, and sparkle in the sun;
The crown upon his head denotes a certain Number One!
He puts a mighty effort into every strut and preen,
Certain he's the proudest peacock there has ever been.
He builds up to his moment (and a moment's all there is);
Just a speedy mating ; hardly time to say 'Gee Whiz!'
Meanwhile the dowdy hens close by don't deal in party tricks;
They merely peck contentedly, dreaming of future chicks.
Their feathers may be boring brown, their tails not wide or high,
But they look smug because they know they don't even have to try!
A special bird here: