Limericks for this season of “hurl[ing] the little streets upon the great”

Sometimes in the morning light
The raven follows the eagle’s flight
And lesser feathered fowl like me
Slowly savour our morning tea.
And note the passing of the night.

When dreams are few and the night is long
And the days unclaimed by the patient throng
It’s good to see the eagle fly
Harried by ravens that sound the sky
Crying shame upon the strong.

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