One morning, I did spy,

By chance, a speckled magpie

With feathers soft and silky --

Their hues white and milky.

The magpie's flashes of teal

And turquoise were ethereal.

Few birds have caused me to swoon,

This one was heavenly as the moon.

What a singular creature he was:

So serene and mild, he gave me pause.

I beckoned him with a gentle tone

And thus, made my presence known.

Thereupon, the magpie did stir

And fluttered to outstretched finger.

It was, apparently, a pleasant perch --

He sat quite nicely, as though in church.

Struck, I waited,

With breath bated,

For the magpie to flee,

Yet, he seemed fond of me.

The joy this epiphany brought

Was tremendous for oft I thought

None could love one such as I,

But there rested the magpie.