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Terry Collett
Poems
May 2013
PEACOCK GIRL.
The peacocks were behind wire
the sun warm
cloudless sky
and Monica had ridden
beside you on her bike
knowing her brothers
were out with the older brother
you not knowing had gone
to the farm house
to meet them
o they’re out
their mother said
didn’t they tell you?
no they‘d not
you walked to your bike
and got on
where you going?
Monica asked
don’t know now
you replied
I can ride with you
wherever you decide
she said
her mother
hands on hips said
don’t go bothering Benedict
he doesn’t want no girl
hanging on his tails
he don’t mind
Monica said
looking at you
her big eyes pleading
don’t mind if she comes
you said
giving the mother
a smile
if you’re sure
she said
and walked back
toward the farmhouse
her backside moving
side to side
in her flowery dress
and you watched
until she had gone
sure you don’t mind
me coming?
no I don’t mind
you said
where we going then?
the peacocks again
o I like them
she said
climbing her bike
foot on the pedal
ready for the push off
her sandals open toed
bare feet
the off white skirt
contrasted
with the mauve top
her hair dragged
into a bow
at the back
ready?
sure am
and you rode off
along the track
from the farmhouse
into the lane
between trees
and hedgerows
she followed at your side
keeping up
her eyes seeming
on fire
her hands gripping
the handlebar
white and pink
and the small fingers
holding on for dear life
her legs up and down
pedalling
you felt the wind
in your hair
through the open neck
of your white shirt
pushing down
the jean covered legs
up and down
the lane narrowed
then widened
there they are
she called
the peacocks
she dismounted
and laid her bike
against a tree
and ran to the wire fence
and peered through
you put your bike
by the hedge
and walked over
to where she stood peering
her eyes bright
and fiery
how comes the *****
are bright and colourful
but the hens are so dull?
she asked
that’s how it is
in the bird world
you said
hens are just dull
I’m not dull
she said
holding the wire
with her fingers
making noises
at the birds
am I?
she said
looking at you
beside her
no you’re not
you said
nothing dull
about you at all
I’m like a peacock
she said
bright and beautiful
aren’t I?
sure you are
you said
you peered
at the strutting peacock
nearest the wire
out of the corner
of your eye
you saw Monica
nose inches
from the wire
call to the bird
her lips pursed
and opening
and closing
her arms soft
and reaching up
I’m a peacock bird
she said
her arms in motion
like wings
her hands flopping
above her head
her feet in dance
stepping
and dancing in turn
you watched her dance
and twirl
Jim and Pete’s sister
the peacock girl.
Written by
Terry Collett
Sussex, England
(Sussex, England)
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