Woody the pigeon
Lives in the tree
Can you imagine
Such a glee
A lifetime partner
To share his days
With eggs to father
That his girl layed
Woody the pigeon
Shared his tree
With beautiful imogen
The girl he needs
The little eggs hatch
Out pops thier chicks
Hunting worms to catch
For his broods fix
Woodys family nest
Up in the tree
Is simply the best
Lifetime for he
The moon could not shed such a glow as you,
nor all the constellations ‘round the stars,
nor planets orbiting the sun like Mars.
Sun can only shine as bright, when new
as you - the soft and shining morning dew,
who lends life’s lonely beauty to the hours;
such dulcet tones - your music like guitars,
whose sounds the gods could not subdue.
Though some may find a cry at night the plight
of parents who loose sleep for care, and croon
a tune of love, for love’s soft embers light.
So sweet and clear I hear your infant tune,
that smites my heartstrings with such strong delight
and bids me fall into love’s tender swoon.
At last the fleet sailed into the Trojan delta
shallow waters still filled with wreckage from the siege
Silt from Scamander and Simoeis
building numerous new islands
all anchored on the old refuse
boats were beached and tents were set
animals set free to graze in the Plain
Eager Brutus left the encampment
left behind him, his ships, his Trojans
left behind him, his wife, his squire
so eager was he to see fabled Troy.
Eager was he to see Apollo's angled walls
Eager was he to see Priam's Marbled palace
Eager was he for the home of his ancestor Anchises
Imogen settling into her tent thought about
Brises beloved of Achilles
was he truly husband or just a better master
than Agamemnon or those who had you next.
The Road to Troy was neither winding nor long
Brutus Iulius Trois needed no guide
Born he was in Ascanius's Troy, Lavinium
his youth spent in Helenus's Troy, Chanoia