Peregrine… a poem



High above in cloudless skies

Peering down, the spy of spies

Ever searching through the day

Perfect eyes, he finds his prey

Folded wings fulfill the need

He tops them all with his speed

Gliding helpless in the air

A pigeon soon to be ensnared

Heavy is the killing strike

As talons pierce like a knife

Now, with burden in his grips

Away he flies to feed his chicks

Then back into the air to hunt

Aerobatic is his stunt

He is a flash upon this scene

For he is master, Peregrine

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