Queen of Wing

She is a lonely bird
Quiet and ill at ease,
Prone to flight
At the slightest stir,
Wanting to find a mate
And do the nesting thing,
Yet terrified of
The courtship game.
She tends to
Fly and hide
The moment a suitable bird
Sings his song
Or makes a move.
Her skittish nature,
Feigned disinterest,
And pretended
Apathy for romance
Discourages
Even the most ardent suitor,
Yet she curses
The fact of being alone.