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 explainin