Hunting Hawk
The wildness is in her eyes, As I remove the hood, Her head turns to the skies, As I knew it would. Spreading wings, she takes flight, Up into the forever blue, Until she's almost out of site, Then downward, to take her due. She hunts with talons drawn, Merciless, and without care, Age old natures song, Without remorse or fear. Beauty of the wild, An urge to be free, Such grace and style, Yet I call her home to me. Written November 27th, 2001 © on Nov 27 2001 01:09 PM PST, Phyllis Thompson 0 • 10
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"The wildness is in her eyes, As I remove the hood, Her head turns to the skies, As I knew it would. Spreading wings, she takes flight, Up into the forever blue, Until she's almost out of site, Then downward, to take her due. She hunts with talons drawn, Merciless, and without care, Age old natures song, Without remorse or fear. Beauty of the wild, An urge to be free, Such grace and style, Yet I call her home to me...."