The rooster crows, a new dawn breaks; his gaggle of hens abide
He struts, displays his stiff hennin comb, cock-a-hoop for his tribe
No cat and fox rain, or numbing pain, could ever stop his cry
King of Uruk*, he searched for immortality, displayed his pride
Let’s be part of him, possessing us, before we fall and die
In This Enchanted Isle, remembered, and so my flock survive

This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.