Part 3: Cloud Eagle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is part 3 of a 9 part series of poems about a fantasy world in which I get stuck. The animals speak, and are generally unhelpful while I try to find a way to get home.

They were all written when I was in my mid to late teens and were received well by my friends at the time. I just thought it would be nice to get them out to a wider audience.

Submitted: September 05, 2017

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Submitted: September 05, 2017



Part 3

Cloud Eagle


I looked up

Into the sky

There were clouds

Floating by

Upon a cloud

Sat an eagle

He was smoking

Something illegal

He noticed me watching

And hid his stash

Then poured some water

Into a can of smash

The granules joined

And turned out smooth

He rang his mother

From a phone booth

As he was talking

I crept up near

I looked at the cloud

But it wasn’t clear

It was dark

And shady blue

I think it was stormy

And rainy too

As the droplets fell

I ran to hide

I crouched in a bus stop

With a small girl guide

She kept on talking

About eating fried sheep

I didn’t want to listen

So I started to sleep


When I woke up

The girl guide had gone

She’d taken my money

But now the sun shone

That cloud was still there though

The eagle on top

He’d finished his phone call

And was using a mop

He was swabbing his cloud

Cos’ he’d made a mess

The mash had expanded

How? I can’t guess


When he had finished

A sparrow flew by

It had white feathers

And I wondered why

I decided to chase it

So I ran for my car

I drove a long way

But I’m not sure how far

I caught it up

And made it stop

It perched on a lamp post

Right at the top

It didn’t speak

Or make much of a sound

And I couldn’t grab it

Cos’ I was on the ground

I looked at its plumage

And thought quite hard

It flapped its wings

Which caught me off guard

I wasn’t expecting

A blue underside

He was all sorts of colours

I think he’d been dyed


My thoughts returned then

Back to that cloud bird

Floating above me

I know it’s absurd

But he was there though

I’m quite sure of that

He was making strange noises

Kind of like a cat

Oh no, that was me

I stood on a moggy

It wasn’t my fault though

It was getting quite foggy

I couldn’t believe it

After all that rain

Now all this mist

It was scrambling my brain


I thought about puffins

Flopping into the sea

Then about antelopes

Then about me

A pigeon had landed

With a bottle of beer

Where this came from

I had no idea

Then I realised

It had come from the sky

I thought about eagle

His cloud floating so high

I think he had dropped it

The pigeon aswell

The pigeon was cooing

As noisy as hell

I tried to stop it

But it shouted louder

It sat on my arm

Eating pieces of Gouda

It seemed a bit strange

That now I had cheese

A man stumbled by

He looked like John Cleese

I shouted for help

But he passed on by

Ignoring my calls

Busy straightening his tie


Something told me

That this was all wrong

I couldn’t get out

I should have known all along

This wasn’t real

It was just a strange dream

About eagles and sparrows

And cheese it would seem

I thought I could wait

Until I awoke

So I just sat tight

Then the pigeon spoke

It dawned on me then

That if I ignored him

He might just be quiet

And refrain from that din

I looked at my ankle

There was a small lump

No, that was just bone

Then a sound made me jump

As I got up

The fog suddenly cleared

I could see all around now

I shouldn’t have feared

I was back in my cavern

My nice warm cave

With twiglets and tulips

And my tortoise called Dave

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