Soaring

SKYWATCH

SOARING

Throughout the ages men have yearned to fly just like the birds.

The dream seemed something way beyond their ken.

They'd imagine how a man would feel if floating in the sky

And some of them would try it now and then.

But it had to end in failure and they thought it always would

For materials had such enormous weight.

Engines assisted flying but it wasn't quite the same,

And being earth-bound seemed to be their fate.

But now light-weight materials have transformed human flight

And human birds skim over land and sea.

If I were young would I be brave and try to fly myself

Or would I be chained by my timidity?

It doesn't really matter for imagination soars;

I watch the young men fly and know the feeling.

I may be trapped by gravity right down here on the floor,

But my spirit flies with them up to the ceiling!

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GOODNESS! A GARGOYLE!

How good to be a gargoyle!
Oh what gigantic fun
To grace a giant edifice
And glower in the sun!
I'd rather be a gargoyle
Than a goblin or a ghost.
Yes, a gorgeous grinning gargoyle!
That would please me most!
I'd stick my ghastly tongue out
And gargle through my teeth
Spitting at gazing gentry
Gambolling underneath.
I'd guzzle drips from rain-drops
And gulp the gnats ands flies
I'd never suffer giddiness
In my great gargoylish guise.
My giant ears would stick-out
Quite gross and like a geckos
And I'd greet each day with guffaws
That would glance off all the echoes.
I'd look quite geriatric
In a way that gargoyles do.
Not glittering or glamorous,
But looking down on YOU!

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