Pleasantly
Bull headed, bird brained, chicken and foxy
From a bramble of a family tree
A lover of Cohen, Midler and Dennis Lee
Who regularly feels awe, paralyzing angst, and humility
Fearing the end of birds singing, seasons changing and liberty
Hoping to see a Purple Martin, a Gyrfalcon, and fifty
Proudly from Vanier
Weird
01/31/19
For Writing Challenge 2, Bio Form, January 2019 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
I'm like a SEAL team commando
After several cups of espresso
I like to dive bomb
With great aplomb
A gyrfalcon? I think so
To poach me is illegal
My name evokes the regal
I reach astonishing speed
When I'm ready to feed
You can call me a golden eagle
From a mountain's peak,
to a very picturesque valley below,
these cold and sprightly waters flow...
watching the gyrfalcon cool off his beak.
River, don't stop your flow anytime,
let me admire how you glisten...
running down the snowy inclines;
hearing the croaking sound of a raven.
Further down you plunge into ravines,
and less forcelful than a waterfall,
you splash on rocks and wildflowers...
raring in the manner of a rascal.
No vigilant eagles, or dozing marabous amid stalks,
are found as you approach vast grasslands,
but the ocean is very far and doubts arise;
o river, keep on flowing towards those serene skies!
From a mountain's peak with graceful glee,
you gurgle in flowless rhythm without mistake,
satisfying my dry palate in a dire state;
o river, flow like the blood that sustains me!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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