An enchanting spring morning

I crave of no less of a charming thing,
Than this enchanted morning in the dawn of spring,
See how the orange-bellied parrot bounces on the withering branch,
And then the tree, and then  the whole ranch,      
Its feather fluffing up against the breeze,
The sun slowly dawned behind the trees,
Peeping like the flaming cinders of a bonfire,
Whiffing the blaze in the furnace of desire,
Blooming flowers and the deep red holly berries glint,
Black swans glide on the froth of the stream, leaving their blueprint,
While merry blood-flecked Winston-Churchill clouds,
Skip across the crisp, blue sky as the day enshrouds,
I wish to twirl to a regent honeyeater's song and its waving wings,
Merrily and gleefully, I like to soar and to sing.