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The First Fable of CharlaX
The First Fable of CharlaX

A Falcon Cry


The Falcon Cries:
He spreads his wings in vain attempts to dry
He tells me once in a whistle WHY?
Why cannot we fly? When will the rain let up and let me in the air?
When will the water stop to drop on feathers so wet there?
The Falcon Cries:
A mournful sound so loud in quiet of early morn
His claws dug deeper in the branch to keep from being torn
Away from perching in the storm
His sharpened beak at work to smooth his feathers
He was using extra care no longer talking just to me his only whistle
Told me many things

The Falcon Cries:
We disagreed with all the rain both the Falcon and the eye.
Why can't we fly?
Eye could clasp the bird to bosom and dry his feathers there
A bird so wild and wonderful so hurt
With all my tears for the Falcon Cry.

The Dragonfly has a Birthday

April Twenty Four for NPM poetry

her smile lights in my heart

she calls to �me at times

she flutters her wings in love she makes me sing my love is secret but not disguised

she is a warrior and she is the world

she is unconcerned with petty theft

she makes me happy and never sad

she is my thrift and all my worth

on this day in May the dragonfly will play

and MAY she think of me this April Day

my Indian my love my wings my calling dove

will always answer with love