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THE PIGMY POUTER by Bob Mangiles
The Pigmy Pouter's the bird supreme.
In fanciers eyes the birds a dream.
He struts and coos with all his might,
You'd swear he's looking for a fight.
He'll blow his globe the whole day long,
He'll make you think there's something wrong.
When you see this bird upon his nest,
With his lovely globe upon his chest.
You'll stop and wonder for a while,
If a bird like that can win a smile.
But through the summer and in the fall,
The Pigmy Pouter beats them all.
And through the winter before springs sets in,
He roams the coops with a well earned win.
In early March or sometimes late,
He tries to find himself a mate.
Now he's happy with a wife,
He chose to live with all his life.
So on and on into the spring,
When mating season is in full swing.
The snow white eggs lay in the nest,
While mom and pop do the rest.
In eighteen days the eggs are hatched,
And those little youngsters can't be matched.
The great long legs that make them high,
And those beautiful wings that make them fly,
Their perfect markings and feathered legs,
Wouldn't be believed to come from eggs.
Now that they have grown their size,
It won't be long that they'll win the prize.
This goes on and on for ages,
In little coops and in big cages.
It goes to show that for a show,
The young must come and the old must go.
So Pigmy fanciers here's a word,
The Pigmy Pouter's "The Worlds Greatest Show Bird".
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