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Cry Petey, I See Bards Rounding the Bend
Cry we all toward places unnamed
Rise above the crested hills
Yell we will - shattering door frames
Plundering thoughts of plovered wills
Tear at the wallpaper - reveal the grain
Ink the slate - etched by wound-dipped quills
Crouch, prowl - ready to pounce on game
Brandishing swords, blaring trumpets shrill
Arching backs, phosphorescent wicks aflame
Ridding netted fish of scales and smelly gills
Driving forward, driven onward - scourging rain
poem
by
Frederick Kesner
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