On The Death of a Topknot Pigeon
Poor wee pigeon you have passed
From the sphere of earthly flight,
No more coo-ing, love or preening
May the spirits give you light.
Striving, struggling, like we humans
Slaves we are in quandary,
Braving, battling, slipping, floundering
Then swept to all eternity.
In the land of your Valhalla
Where the day so brightly dawns
Freed from rats, and hawks and ravens
Ever 'mid the fields of corn.
Where red poppies nod and beckon
To the golden, rich repast
Speed you on, oh gentle Topknot
Freed and happy now at last.
Thompson Noble,
BULBA. 23.9.32
This work by Lake Macquarie City Library is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License