Ode to a Peregrine

 Forward, forward all ye sea cannons.

All ye barrages of the swell

Here I stand in my cliff cabin

Knowing ye intruders well

Forward, forward screech

Ye of impossible reach

The scream of alarm into your soul

So schooled in the art of the fooled,

I am a witch on a broom

A thoroughbred racing down a fell

I am an instant in your time

I wear the disguise of death,

My hues and clothes demark me well

I am your first and last breath

Peregrine am I,

The Lord of the sky

The high Sultan of the Salty Perch

In my crow’s nest

I am scarecrow, caw, caw

Black the congregation of my high church

Fall in ye gulls, ye gabbling ranks

Commoners take turns to fish the sea with thanks

I thank not the gel,

Nor its green brown pell-mell

I am as quick as honey, I smell with my flanks

These eves of rocks I chose for the view

Those shore leave in the docks show

Where my shadow sheaves

And time me on clocks

I make landfall before Eve

May pluck an apple for Adam

And let it fall from her sleeve

Hunting a pigeon on the wing

It is a smidgeon of a thing

For what I enjoy

Is to play with this toy

As a train racing track

When I attack

I smother and sting

With Talon and Beak

I rend skin from wing

Then back to the nest

I deliver the rest

I am the postman with the fastest letter

I am the messenger king

The carrier of carrion

The bringer of tides

Don’t shoot the messenger if you dislike what he brings

Whether evil tidings

Or indiscernible things

The message did not return one evening

The bird was not heard

The vital war time correspondence

Fell silent in my mouth

Yet its secret I kept safe

For I did not speak a word