Crow boys

The Crow is a Joe
Quite a dear so and so
A thief a collector
Of sorts
He wears his tuxedo
As black as the night
And really has his share of thoughts

Talking of bird brains
This fellow excites
His perception is really so good
He’s attracted by bling he can’t really sing
But is quite a wizard who should

Come to terms with the
Glamour of wildness
He is bewitched by it all
I’ve heard tell
The magic within him
More than superstition
It’s his purity that serves
Him well

An honourable soul
Whose stays in control
Of the forest that is what we hear
A benevolent guy with such a beady eye
Whose fondness is mixed up with fear
The crow is a joe
An Eagle perhaps
A bold suit of feathers
All kept under wraps

He compliments bird families
Yes and the rest
And is quite a stickler
At building a nest
You will find him at Beltaine
And Samhain where he
Always flies a straight line
Into infinity