Kingfisher, Kingfisher
Don't fly to the breeze!
Tell me why ye run from me!
I mean you no harm

I only look to see
The beautiful colors
That brightens my tree.
I wish I could fly

The sights I would see..
If on your back
Like the breeze
I could flee!!

© Cathy Hodgson

Sitting past the reeds
upon a willow tree
the kingfisher surveys
his watery larder

With keen polaroid eyes
a victim he spies
and measuring distance
he makes his next move

A flicker in thought
his blue metallic wings
now do go into action
such a beautiful thing

Down from the branches
wings folded back
he darts into the stream
by the banks waters edge

The minnow that was hunting
has now become the hunted
and out of crystal waters
the kingfisher is victorious

Out of the stream
with feathers to preen
after a hearty fill
of minnow and bream

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Kingfisher flits and waits
a small twig on an overgrowing willow

Flash of Blue Stardust Feathers
The stickleback fish the prize

that Kingfisher master of the river
fisher supreme

Those cobalt volcanic flutters
capture the eye of all onlookers