The Feather and the Peacock

a pluck of a feather...

The Feather and the Peacock

As I walked along an old garden path,

I saw a peacock in full bloom. He was

strutting and fanning his tail in all its

feathery glory. It was a colorful sight

to behold-

 

But the peacock seemed quite

unhappy. I heard him curse and swear and 

whimper and cry like a baby. This was

odd behavior indeed from such a vainglorious

creature~

 

I stood beside the young peacock

and asked him why he was so distraught.

He looked me in the eye and said in a

thick peacockian accent---

 

“One of my feathers refuses to properly

plume out. It’s an old feather that was once

the most beautiful of all my feathers but now

it’s faded and shriveled. I tried plucking it

out but it won’t give and besides it’s in a area

that will leave a unsightly bald spot. I’m at my

wits end. How am I to attract a female

companion in this condition? My beauty has

been compromised.”

 

I plucked out the feather to the howling peacocks

surprise. I told him that the small bald spot is hardly

noticeable and in time a new feather will grow in its place.

He thanked me in an offhanded peacock way and said

I could keep the feather~

 

It has become one of my favorite quill pens that I now

possess. It writes with a demons precision…   

 

 

 

 

 

.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

01-07-16

RC