He saunters along the rain forests like the crowned king of the jungle
savouring the pervading air of spring and its promise of love and bright flowers,
his emotional compass boils well in his good counted posture
As he flaunts his long held penchance for song and swagger
Struck by his long and graceful train of elegance
his prospective suitors watch in awe
as he chases away the dying days of freezing winter
It is the vital thrill for his wild party
And the centuries of his stead in this game, that sets apart his elegant beauty
Beneath the sheath of his shiny muscles,
is a petite soul that calls for affection,
And fired compassion that brooks the unfriendly weathers
He holds high his fondest wings of love with a sense of pride
Cajoling with the hungry eyes of his admirers
He is poised and ready for the probable prize
As he glances on quietly through his eyes of the gods
