When the Assyrians came flying at midday
With no lethal intensions than unburdening
Don the brave was on duty at Picket 22.
Their usual practice was to caste away their load
In some desolate moor, ravine or knoll
But this day they took the wrong path.
Don was happy that the kites looked large
And unusually fast in that warm weather
And fancied shooting one of them.
So the bright faced steadfast defender
Levelled his arrow upright
And shot, one after another.
The Assyrians perhaps failed to notice him
For there wasn’t any dropping in fright
And they flew away without much ado.
Don’s performance was watched by his skipper
Who without wonder pulled him up
Asked him to invest the arrows in his maw
And stand on the head to fancy another feat.
Raveendran N.V.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flight-vs-fancy/
