An audience of those
Who fail to think or even care
All they see is a scrap
And whether or not it’s fair
The serenity and calmness
The unflappable the sure
Statuesque and peaceful
Never keen on war
A tolerant unruffled placid
Soul who cares
Up against a gaggle
Of sea birds whose affairs

Are always clearly alien
They mostly perch on piers
Arguing the toss about
This or that no tears
For taking on an artistic soul
In a meditative state
Who probably would have got eaten up
Had Carly not been great

A warrior who sees and acts
A balancer As well
The lack of equilibrium
A rather reckless spell
Of bullying and madness
Groups they often feel
Ready for a bundle
Over someone’s meal

She came out to go shopping
But what she saw was wrong
And she was there to balance up the scales
Heroes belong
Where the heron actually was
And so she weighed in and
Boots and bags acting as flags
She was there to right the wrong

Got all wet of course she did
But there’s a heart that cares
She knows about her nature
And of course the wild affairs
Of birds in the environment
And the underdogs and she
Took it on herself to make a difference
She was key

The Heron gracefully departed
The sea gulls angrily
Got a rude awakening
I like that actually
Carly is a darling
She put a wild soul first
As for self indulging
Her rather firery burst

Took her home to clean up
And Under a sky of blue
Beans on toast
And a satisfactory end
Good and true

The Heron remained stoical
Restrained and ready for
A gudgeon or a baby perch
And who knows perhaps some more

Thinking to himself
That human being was a friend
Despite the rabid audience
Her action in that moment
It honestly did lend
A weight to his philosophy
His agility and repose
Carly was the warrior
And my respect of her it grows

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