Joyce Marie Hayes
An Eagle soared aloft in a clear blue sky,
A king whose pride rang out with every cry.
His golden eyes alert and very sound he heard,
Yet he ignored the war cry of a big silver bird. Moving faster than sound it ignited his head,
Now in place of feathers, It's red where he bled.
It's terribly hard for pride to show,
When everyone is shouting, "It's a condor," from below. "Tis a sad sad day," he bemoaned his fate.
As he thought of going home and explaining to his mate.
How the flame danced a polka atop his head,
Leaving him bald and his pate cherry red. "Never again dare I claim the skies,
That dad-ratted jet nearly led to my demise.
When my feathers return and I'm suave once more
I'll be sure to listen for the jets raucous roar."
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Comments about this poem (Oops! by Joyce Marie Hayes )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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