I wish I were an Eagle
Soaring high in God’s blue sky.
Effortlessly flapping its wings
Taking it ever high.

Surveying the earth beneath
Sharp eyes taking all in
Searching a likely prey
A tasty meal for him.

Swooping swift as a bullet
Feathers fluttering in the wind
A hare, a fish, a bird
His talons soon will win.

Back to the aerie
Three hungry chicks to feed
With mouths wide open
Ingesting nourishment they need.

His daily chore completed.
His family will survive.
Then back to Gods vast range
To swoop, and soar, and dive.

Oh, for the life of an Eagle
What freedom that must be?
Oh, for the life of an Eagle
Knowing you are free.

Tom Fenning
7/22/2005

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Soaring High.

I caught a turtle and a frog,
And then I tried to catch a hog,
But it would fight and make a squeal,
I didn’t know how it would feel.

I thought that it would play with me,
But it just wanted to be free,
To roll around in sloppy mud,
I loved this pig; I called it Bud.

Though it was just a simple hog,
I tried to treat it like a dog,
I wanted it to chase a bone,
But it would rather rub a stone.

So I went out to catch a hen,
And keep it in a little pen,
So I could hold it close to me,
And keep this chicken on my knee.

But all it did was flap around,
(It was a chicken, not a hound),
And it would rather peck in dirt,
I loved this hen; I called it Gert.

So I went out and bought a dog,
Which was much better than a hog,
And softer than a big, white hen,
I love this dog; I call it Ben.

It loves to sit upon my knee,
Where it can feel content and free,
It doesn’t peck or roll in mud,
It’s better than old Gert or Bud.

And we are now the best of friends,
And will be when this story ends,
The hog and chicken were okay,
But Ben and I are here to stay.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Ben And I.

I wish I were an Eagle

Soaring high in God’s blue sky.

Effortlessly flapping its wings

Taking it ever high.

Surveying the earth beneath 

Sharp eyes taking all in

Searching a likely prey

A tasty meal for him.

Swooping swift as a bullet

Feathers fluttering in the wind

A hare, a fish, a bird

His talons soon will win.

Back to the aerie

Three hungry chicks to feed

With mouths wide open

Ingesting nourishment they need.

His daily chore completed.

His family will survive.

Then back to Gods vast range

To swoop, and soar, and dive.

Oh, for the life of an Eagle

What freedom that must be?

Oh, for the life of an Eagle

Knowing you are free.

Tom Fenning

7/22/2005

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Flying high.