Poem : Whispers of a Skylark

A wise bird, wiser than the west It blend beak of voice and a beacon afar Deftly blending clouds with feathers Spread over wicked continents Which is shifting opinions as in tectonic plates Continent of men, clouds of winged meanings Drifting oceans, Dithering wings They meet in swarms and grooves In a season of stealth and drones No one wants an yellow messenger That whispers to the wind, vividly It could tilt and slope, incline and invade The valley of vultures and other dreaded signs No one want an yellow messenger That could see beyond the tropic clouds That could foretell the origin of nemesis That could groove vision in your timid eyes That bridges light unto your iris canals No one want an yellow messenger That carves blissful voices in your yellow belles Bile is bile, vile is vile, primate is primate and so is the Continental drift