Poetry

I'm loving how enthusiastic Nicholas is about writing poetry.  For a guy who would prefer to talk instead of write, he puts up very little fuss when it comes time to write some poetry.  We've worked through limericks and haiku, and we recently moved on to poems that do not rhyme, but that instead follow a pattern in the number of syllables per line.  Nicholas wrote a lovely poem about owls the other day, and I chose to get in on the action by writing one too.  While he was reluctant to share his, here's mine:

The Sentry

I gaze out my window
At her speckled white feathers--
She barely notices the cold.
She perches so regal atop the bale
And stands watch over the field.

The fields are all icy,
Covered with a thick blanket
Of hard-packed, freezing white snow.
Who would venture from its cozy warm home
To the dangers that await?

What was that over there?
Her head quickly spins to the
Movement she spots in the distance.
Ah yes, there it is, a plump little mouse--
A welcome meal for tonight.

She spreads her great white wings
And with a powerful flap,
Rises up and silently skims
Over the surface of the bleak white field.
She is beauty in action.

She speeds toward her prey
With effortless ease and grace--
The mouse is unaware of her.
Her lethal talons stretch out for the kill.
One small life fuels another.

I gaze out my window
As she sails back to her perch
And she blinks her big yellow eyes.
Watching and waiting for hints in the dark--
The alert sentry stands guard.