Is it a gaggle of geese
as the sky turns red
or skein of ducks
flying overhead instead
into the wild blue yonder
and as the crow flies
it's not a murder
nor a tidings of magpies
there's more than one
(for sorrow)
the question I did surely ponder
as they flew into the setting sun
with sparrows I have no quarrel
and yet with the wisdom of owls
for this hunter with his gun
it's like shooting fish in a barrel
The town folk were in shock Page 5
As they saw blood run like water
As the mob set out to kill
All their sons, wife's and daughters
The men of the town
Drew their guns and started shooting
All the murderess men
And the others that were looting
Like shooting fish in a barrel
The mob became depleted
But there were so many
They could not be defeated
By the end of the day
Not one soul was left standing
As the buzzard circled round
And the Sun remained demanding
As their blood ran like a river
Down the streets onto the plains
Then, and only then
Did the sky, begin to rain
The End almost !
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