Screaming through the air it came
An eagle seeking for its prey,
Playing out its ancient game
Hoping this would be the day.
For eaglets waiting high above
Where mountains seem to touch the sky
were hoping that a mother’s love
Would find success in earth bone dry.
And creatures looking in alarm,
Exposed when out of hiding came,
Would have an eye for any harm
Descending looking ‘round for game.
The eagle wheeled and turned around
Riding currents in the air,
Those practiced eyes surveying ground
Seeking any game to dare
Must venture out in pastures bare
And find some water quench its thirst,
Those keen to try were now so rare,
This eagle would not be the first
To swoop down sudden from the sky
And take a relative so dear.
But thirst can drive one out to try
And then be taken from the rear.
Nothing dared to show its face
For practiced eyes had watched the sight
Of eagles from their lofty base
And knew they’d lose survivals fight.
The eagle’s eye took in the scene
Of bleaching bones beside the lake.
Before the drought this lake had been
A place of herds for crocs to take.
Lazing by an oozing mud,
The crocs lay in survival mode
Hoping for familiar thud
Of creatures on their thirsty road.
But there in centre of the lake
The eagle saw a movement clear
And hoped that for the eaglet’s sake
Would pluck it from its hidden lair.
With practiced speed, a guided hit,
The prize was plucked with talons thick
And labouring upward soon would sit
Her watching brood devour quick.
“© Copyright Ian Grice,
ianscyberspace 2018 All rights reserved”
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