I’M JUST DOODLING!

Playing with my personal doodlesack;
Breath of Life can be a playful attack.
A bird’s nest can be an intimate shack –
To hone its instrument, the doodlesack.
Cats meow, yowl, purr, chatter,an apt knack,
For strumming their own unique doodlesack.
When the impetuous wind somehow feels lack —
Fingering a tree’s twigs, its doodlesack.
The dogs frolicking in the yard out back,
Are chasing a ball, their own doodlesack.

(A DOODLESACK IS A BAGPIPE.)

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DEFINING A PECULIAR DESTINY

 

Hiking through the woods I seek my Moira.
My [Fae] Mockingbird wears a Fedora.
Red-Winged Blackbird pecking through the Flora;
Born-Again Opera Star is its Moira.
When a Seagull flies it sports an Aura;
Spiraling into Sunlight, its Moira.
At Dawn, the Crow Caws, Avian Torah;
Communicate, an Ultimate Moira.
Have you listen to a Kookaburra?
To be filled with Laughter’s a nice Moira.

MOIRA (moi-ruh) – the personification of Fate.