Poetry

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Some words to-day wanted to write,then outside my window front,a flock of birds came into sight,they
circled around,and around again,made a figure of eight number then,unlike some other birds we know,
the pigeons have their loft below,when they are tired of their flight,they clock into their loft so
right,until they are picked for racing flight,
special birds in their own way,expensive too i dare
say,there are sparrows,starlings,and crows as well,
GOD,grant them power to remain in flight,in wind and rain and storm that bite,to find a nook,or
cranny,without their wings they cannot glide,have not forgotten the birds of prey,unlike mankind they
do not have to pray,not their fault in any way,no
excuse for us men,without GOD'S GRACE,there is just lifeless sin,and indeed no welcome in,or flying then,only death within,a very scary when.
Joe.

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