I’ll Cease To Love You When This Bird Sings…..ie never, because it’s a wax impression innit?!

Ooo, this is a rarity!

Peacocks may be admired the world over for their gob-smackingly gorgeous tails; crooners they are not! Not an inkling of the Sinatra in this bird’s repertoire.

The tones of a peacock are far from dulcet. Melody doesn’t get a look in. It’s all honk in the peacock’s songbook. Or Screech. Yaup. Yell. Caterwaul.

Think cat in distress, crossed with a crying baby, crossed with nails scraped across a blackboard. You get the picture (or noise). Enough to set your gnashers on edge.

Although given how blessed peacocks are in the tail feather department, it seems only fair for them to be so lacking in musical ability, in our humble opinion. Fair’s fair after all.

Which brings us to the text on this intaglio. This is love of the devoted kind. A bone fide ‘til death do us part promise. The one that they want. Now. Tomorrow. Forever.

Unless your lover is tone deaf.

Or a fan of the avant-garde.

It’s a talisman of love. Come on and shake your tail feathers…