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