DanFC
Well-known member
I originally wrote this as a metaphor for myself, but I think it turned into something else by the end. It's not deep or anything like a whole bunch of the other ones here though, and I haven't taken a lit class in years so, just a warning 
Falconry
Again, in the most lustrous night,
A man whispers throughout the copse
To his beloved companion
Who’s lone spirit slumbers upright,
Never knowing when he’ll be summoned.
The floater recedes into the scene,
The trees delicately sway in a midnight breeze,
Leaves make their song and the rider
Feels the glare of the forbidden all round him.
Twitch, off behind a tree or bush! A noise what could it be?
The master lets his signal ring.
The beast, who slumbers like serpents rather than pixies,
Unseals its eyes lit with a wisdom of menace and fright
And lets out a shrill cry and extends its blades, sharpened with apprehension.
An extant myth, it flies into the abyss, seeking what should not be sought.
But suddenly,
It slows its lowly pursuit and the shadow creeps back.
Off to the right after a clearing, the raptor can see the glistening reflection.
The rider, the master, winding after the beast in bewilderment,
Calls back what he released.
It’s far too late for the creature of night may not be kept.
It flies, talons behind wings, into the far off impression.
Maybe it wonders if there’s something on the other side,
Or maybe it knows and it just wants to die.
Either way, the rider witnesses a murder or a death,
But he knows that was has been done cannot be for wept.
Falconry
Again, in the most lustrous night,
A man whispers throughout the copse
To his beloved companion
Who’s lone spirit slumbers upright,
Never knowing when he’ll be summoned.
The floater recedes into the scene,
The trees delicately sway in a midnight breeze,
Leaves make their song and the rider
Feels the glare of the forbidden all round him.
Twitch, off behind a tree or bush! A noise what could it be?
The master lets his signal ring.
The beast, who slumbers like serpents rather than pixies,
Unseals its eyes lit with a wisdom of menace and fright
And lets out a shrill cry and extends its blades, sharpened with apprehension.
An extant myth, it flies into the abyss, seeking what should not be sought.
But suddenly,
It slows its lowly pursuit and the shadow creeps back.
Off to the right after a clearing, the raptor can see the glistening reflection.
The rider, the master, winding after the beast in bewilderment,
Calls back what he released.
It’s far too late for the creature of night may not be kept.
It flies, talons behind wings, into the far off impression.
Maybe it wonders if there’s something on the other side,
Or maybe it knows and it just wants to die.
Either way, the rider witnesses a murder or a death,
But he knows that was has been done cannot be for wept.
