He promised her to meet at eight
A tryst, he’d said, upon the gate.
She scans the trees
And then the sky
But no pigeons flying by
She tweaks a feather here and there
Oh she is a pigeon-fair
He really should appreciate
The luck he had
To get this date!
A glance around, he’s not in sight
Not good enough! And just not right!
He did that dance
All puffed and proud
And billed & cooed
So very loud
She had been certain it was love
He must have dumped her
for that dove!
The fickle sod was just a poser
Just when she was sure
he chose her
But here! Her beau arrives at last!
Slicked-back plumage
Landing fast
Quick as quick she looks right haughty
Mustn’t let him
Think she’s naughty
He talks her round with velvet coos
And words d’amour
he starts to use
My little Pee-jun, honey-bun
How about
a bit of fun?
She listens to his song of love
He didn’t want that
fat old Dove!
It’s her he fancies, now she’s sure
So let’s get on
with that … amour!
It’s pigeon passion!
Lots of necking
After that some gentle pecking
Surely now she’s in the mood?
He hopes she’s not
a pigeon prude!
(or he’ll have to find that fat old dove again)
Now she’s convinced he isn’t fickle
She’ll let him have
some slap & tickle
Her body language tells him Yes!
He doesn’t need
to try and guess
But what is this? He’s started preening!
Has he completely
missed her meaning?
She says: ‘Excuse me! If you please …
What about the birds
and bees?’
Like a bird upon a mission
He quickly gets
into position
Are you ready ma cherie?
he cries
with great alacrity
A blur of feathers then ensues
Accompanied by
bills and coos
Now watching pigeons having sex
must be rated
Triple-X!
Afterwards she’s acting shy
He puffs and preens
A classic guy!
She ponders nests and lasting love
But somewhere near …
I hear a dove …
The author wishes to confirm that although on one occasion the photographer’s camera lens steamed up, no pigeons were embarrassed in the making of this story.