P - PERCHED PEGIONS

PERCHED PIGEONS

The city's important and busiest square
Was graced by the installed statue,
Of that country's proud and famous son
Who stood there bravely as a mark of pride and fond remembrance.

The huge bronze statue,
Was there sitting on a bronze horse,
So majestic he looked,
The people seeing him got a sense of pride of course.

There were fountains at the statue's foot,
That sprinkled cold water into thin air,
And some of the sprinkled water filled
The artificial tank that stood there..

Pigeons gathered in large numbers,
And perched on the statue and its horse,
This seemed to be their resting place,
When they were out of their nest.

Some pigeons were white and some were grey,
They sat themselves in a haphazard way,
Some perched on the statues head and limbs,
While some perched themselves on the majestic horse.

Some pigeons sat quietly with closed eyes,
Some fluffed their feathered wings,
And even some bathed themselves,
In the water of the fountain tank.

The pigeons were all there,
Neither to dishonour nor to disgrace
The honour or the prestige
Of the statue that stood there.

But one thing the pigeons did,
That spoilt the statue's grace,
By sprinkling their droppings all over
The statues body, head and face.

The pigeons did let their droppings fall
Without any shame,
For they are birds, natures loved creation,
With no bad thoughts tucked in them.

Days will come and days will go,
The pigeons will sit there,
And all that can be said of them is
"See the pigeons are perched there".