The Flying Seal
by K. A. Laity
|Consider now the
Some people claim it isn't real
But one flew by on Saturday
While all the finches were away.
A brace of martins, to be sure,
Would make a much more common cure
Of moods most somber and declines
Brought on by those warmer climes.
Starlings in my kitchen charm
Though myriad wings wreak violent harm,
And tiny bills in bags of flour
Cause havoc in the early hours.
A flying seal's just the thing
For any soul who needs a fling
Into the realm of sudden joys:
There simply is no better ploy.