The Age Of Fables Poem by Haris Foulu

Ultimately, I got the eyeful of it
If in the greatest of dreams I beheld
At last, the percepts of my imagery
As my eyes opened around a nest plumy
Alone there I lay, past the pricey care of the world
Thereupon, with excitement, I jumped aground and aloft
Soon, in an interim between my bodily rubs and scrape
A sudden, my wings were found to be starting to flap
Overjoyed with surprise, I held on to that brief spell of vim
No sooner had I held on than my strength materialized to the brim
Airworthiness thus seemed, the impulses thus turned brisk
And soon I was on high, flying free of risk