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

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  1. 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.