Peacock Tail

I start helping out in a crèche today, so this seemed fitting. 

Blue umbrellas

by D. J. Enright

'The thing that makes a blue umbrella with its tail -

how do you call it?' you ask. Poorly and pale

Comes my answer. For all I can call it is peacock.

Now that you go to school, you will learn how we call all sorts of things;

How we mar great works by our mean recital.

You will learn, for instance, that Head Monster is not the gentleman's accepted title;

The blue-tailed eccentrics will be merely peacocks; the dead bird will no longer doze

Off till tomorrow's lark, for the latter has killed him.

The dictionary is opening, the gay umbrellas close.

Oh our mistaken teachers! -

It was not a proper respect for words that we need,

But a decent regard for things, those older creatures and more real.

Later you may even resort to writing verse

To prove the dishonesty of names and their black greed -

To confess your ignorance, to exiate your crime, seeking one spell to

life another curse.

Or you may, more commodiously, spy on your children, busy discoverers,

Without the dubious benefit of rhyme.