The crow cawed and flew passing by,
a swallow sitting on a branch so high.
The beautiful swallow in deep brown,
looked at the crow with a grim frown.
Perched on the big mango tree,
the baby crow was feeling free.
But it cawed on - naughty crow,
and other animals raised their brow.
The crow thought itself - The Best,
that it is different from - The Rest.
The maiden flight of its life, with
wings gliding like a butter knife.
Soaring up and sometimes far low,
with people appearing small below.
Thought itself as the king of the skies,
cawing merrily and heartily it flies.
Prasenjit©1997-2010
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