The Snare Of The Fowler ~ A Bird On The Fly

The Snare of the Fowler –

We are prey in its teeth,

For the bird is ensnared ~

As she prays for release.

Soon all of the noise,

And fear of disease –

Is lost from her mind.

The trap springs open –

With no latch she could find.

Wings open her eyes,

Above the trees,

No longer blind.

Or dreams to be free!

Never again stoop,

Like a fool in the dark –

She has been shown,

 Is no longer duped.

Her notes are stark –

So let it be known ~

A snake is no lark. 

Valerie Hayes

Happy Father’s Day!

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