Self Portrait in colour


From the top ,
a sickly red squidgy wobbly bit,
not my finest feature;
a wicked eye twinkles in a crinkled face,
a pointy ochre beak
and floppy red dangles
surrounded by silky-smooth auburn
flecked with yellow
and gleaming with health.
My chest swells,
a petrol-blue-green
merging with flanks of copper
descending to scrawny, scaly legs
on unspeakable feet.
My cliché crowning glory
– though at the wrong end –
is a flourish of arching,
waving, polychrome plumes.
What a fine fellow I am.

Poetic Bloomings suggests we play about with colour.  I write about colour a lot, and am too lazy (and full of food) to write a new one.  This is a re-blog of a very old one.  


All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
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4 Responses to Self Portrait in colour

  1. An amazing description, Viv. I laughed. 🙂


  2. Ah, my first thought, then I decided peacock. I should have checked out your blog : ) Roosters are vain with so little reason.


  3. colonialist says:

    He has something to feel cocky and really crow about!
    Great description.


  4. He is a fine fellow indeed. One any Norman would be proud of!


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