A speck went blowing up against the sky As little as a leaf: then it drew near And broadened.—' It's a bird,' said I, And fetched my bow and arrows. It was queer! It grew from up a speck into a blot, And squattered past a cloud; then it flew down All crumply, and waggled such a lot I thought the thing would fall.—It was a brown Old carpet where a man was sitting snug Who, when he reached the ground, began to sew A big hole in the middle of the rug, And kept on peeping everywhere to know Who might be coming—then he gave a twist And flew away. ... I fired at him but missed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON NOT BY THE SEA by SARA TEASDALE MATRES DOLOROSAE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS [OR VILLERS] (1) by THOMAS CAREW WAR IS KIND: 12 by STEPHEN CRANE THE STORY OF FIORDISPINA, FR. ORLANDO FURIOSO by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO |