The Kingfisher

On a gnarled piece on driftwood,
This plump little bird is silently sat.
It looks at me, then back at the river;
It looks all around, this way and that.

Its dark, piercing, beady round eyes
Are full of fierce intelligence and cunning.
The colour combination of its amber breast
And turquoise back, looks simply stunning.

It sits there statue-like, patiently waiting
For the right moment to finally arrive.
Then having spotted its unlucky prey,
It suddenly swoops and, into the river, it dives.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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