William F Dougherty (West Hartford, CT)
Why do these odes make such a dainty choice,
'Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird, '
of metaphors in measure? The human voice
favors—so to sing—feathers made-to-word
to lift such lilting melodies through time
in delicate woodnotes, fluent and flush,
chirping like warblers in full-throated rhyme:
skylarks, nightingales and darkling thrush.
Skylarks, my coxcomb! Why must songs ignore
my blazing bursts? Who crows the nights to day,
rousing the sun, from top the hen-house door?
If falsetto poets spend no ink to praise
how brilliantly chanticleer ignites the dawn,
I'll lift my neck one day and merely yawn.
Comments about this poem (Chanticleer's Complaint by William F Dougherty )
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