Precious Gold
A tribute to a Goldfinch
by Annie Jenkin

Your venetian mask
bathes you in mystery,
enhancing the dazzling
palette of colours you wear,
and so befitting your name.

Poised, perched and peering,
your eyes drawn towards
the alluring mauve heads,
swaying, yet unruffled
in temperamental
November breezes.

A thistle is your weakness
its coy nods, too tempting.
Swooping down
clinging to a stem,
flashing and fluttering
those yellow-barred wings,
as your ivory beak deftly
plucks at unresisting seeds.

Sated, you fly away
not knowing,
how your display
and vivid hues uplift me.


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