Mechanical Majesty

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A mechanical bird holds court by day, Its feathers gold, its eyes aglow, A marvel of craft, a wondrous show. With gears and springs, it's brought to life, A symphony of metal, free from strife, It perches proud, a work of art divine, A fusion of nature and machine's design. In autumn's hue, the background fades, As orange leaves and red petals are displayed, The bird's sharp beak and talons tight, Grasp the moment, a fleeting sight. A tale of innovation, a story told, Of human ingenuity, young and old, The mechanical bird, a symbol true, Of dreams and progress, forever anew.