The Falcon
A beautiful Brown Buzzard {Ghastly name for a lovely creature} Hunts around my house every evening and I sit and watch her with a glass of wine, On the Terrasse as the sun sets.
This is for her but I have used falcon as Brown Buzzard is not very poetic, is it?
THE FALCON
My Spirit floats in the ether
It follows the falcon’s drift
She rides the thermals beneath her
They cushion her wings as she lifts
Ah! Would that my body could soar
Be light as the air, as is she
In perspective my views as I tour
Perhaps, somehow, look down on me
She lends me her wings for a space
Can she know that my soul flies with her?
Does she ever look down on my face?
Will the rapture expressed there transfer?
Of course I know this is fancy
That she would never think thus
Her mission to feed her young family
Their frail lives placed in her trust
Yet, I can’t help the feeling
As she ever swoops through the air
That while she is sweeping and weaving
We are somehow entwined up there
A lovely poem Frenchsilk
I wish i had written that Frenchsilk, it is beautiful. Thank you.
Beautiful poem Chris, very evocative and mystical
Thank you all,I appreciate your thoughts xxxxx
My loss for not seeing it sooner but my gain having read it today. I am very touched. Beautiful, frenchsilk. Thank You.
Liked it, Frenchsilk.
Here is another by an Indian poet
Pooja Natrajan .
If i were a bird
I would fly so high
If i were a bird
I would touch the sky
Carefree and happy, I would be
Miles i would fly over land and sea
I would on grain and bread
The message of Love and
Peace i will spread
If i were a bird
I would be really glad
If i were a bird
I would never be sad.