Charlie was a pheasant
Who lived out in the bush
He came out when the sun shone
Eating insects in a rush
His wife was rather drab
In plumage next to him
She strutted across the garden
In sunshine frost and rain.
Mating calls would echo
Springtime rooster ruled the lair
Sometimes he had a harem
For the pheasant chicks to fare
Charlie was a pheasant
Who didn’t live for long
But in this time brought happiness
Despite his awful song.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Submitted for d’verse open link night.
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Hues of Hankinson 
I am glad to hear he brought happiness thought his life was short and he couldn’t sing.
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lol….poor beggar..XX
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I enjoyed your story and pictures ~ Happy too that he brought happiness though he didn’t live for long ~
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I love pheasants and quails..
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I was rooting for him — even if he did spell his name that way. A lovely, funny, and sad write. He carried on, but couldn’t carry a tune.
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The take home for me: even sadness carries its own silver lining: fleeting moments of happiness.
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If you don’t live long you better have fun while it lasts…
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The poor pheasants — the males get all the show. Of course, the ladies have to hide with their brood, so it probably works out well. He is a handsome devil, isn’t he.
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