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The Deeds of a Pileated King
He appeared from nowhere dressed in crown
His subjects below his royal countenance.
Tossing that pompadour as he looks down
Our eyes meet while he laughs in impunity.
Rapidly moving as he looks askance
Those Blue Jesters pluck at their crowns
They wear to take liberty and every chance
To score an escaped crumb from his jaws.
The chips will fly where they may!
And the trumpets thunder in fanfare,
The king surveys his grandiose lands
While his court receives a profound glare.
Watching and waiting for the crowd to thin
My spyglass and lens at the ready,
In hope and anticipation I stand
Holding my bulky equipment steady.
He rapidly ascends to the top of a limb
Belting out his chortling call again.
My eyes are on his stately form
While his radiance he maintains.
See me now and state your case!
He knowingly holds my attention,
The silence that now ensues
Points right in my direction.
He then decides that the time is right
To make his exit anon,
And there I remain alone again,
No photo to show since he’s gone.
It’s just a matter of time! I call aloud
I’ll surely find you again.
Perhaps, he says, maybe later,
But I’ll not be the one to blame.