The lovely pheasant who frequently visited the barn was, one late afternoon, sadly, found dead on the road. Possibly the same pheasant who proudly strutted around the Barn that I photographed in an earlier news item around a year ago? My great niece and I wrote the poems below inspired by our memories of the pheasant’s natural beauty and charm.
MY POEM
Late Sunday afternoon you were in my field
Pecking the grass
Relaxed and content
Coming up close to the barn.
Now you are dead on the road,
Your beautiful plumage can be seen.
Why would you try to cross the road?
You were safe in our fields.
We are all sad Our lives are emptier without you.
MY GREAT NIECE’S POEM
The pheasant was nice
Although I don’t like birds.
The bird was magnificent, beautiful, strong.
Although you’re gone You’ll still be in our hearts.
