The Dance of the Brolga

It was night,
deep and black, when I first caught sight,
of my quarry.

He was tall and grey,
but moved in a graceful way,
across the march and into the bush.

I almost missed him,
for he was standing quite still.
No sooner had I seen him,
than a cry rang out loud.

The cry seem to come from everywhere at once,
and lingered in the air,
as if afraid of dying off.

Pink spot round his eye,
seemed to brighten with colour,
as suddenly he did take off.

Round and round,
this natural clearing in the scrub,
did old man brolga streak.

Sometimes high,
sometimes low,
but always as if his feet never touched the ground.

A full blown dance,
of the brolga,
is a thing to see!

His antics were quite unusual,
just to say the least.
I've never seen anything like it,
and wouldna believed it,
had not I spooted this fool.

Old man brolga,
must have felt showy this night,
for a sudden leap and cry in the air,
he performed for my delight.

At times, he was strutting like a peacock,
and the next, he was no more than a grey blur of light.
By the end of the show,
I was quite exhausted,
but he did not seem daunted.
For he took to the air,
just merely made off,
and no more have I seen him ere.

So, if by chance,
late one night,
you see old man brolga.
Be sure to give my regards,
and ask how he is.
Perhaps if you ask him politely,
and promise him his favourite meal,
you may persuade,
and you will be amazed,
the fantastic Dance of the Brolga.