Fodder for Clueless Romantic Poets

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

A certain sort of reptile grew some wings

And feathers never thinking it would grow

To be a songbird in the singing springs

Of England later.  How could reptiles know

Of mockingbirds or nightingales, or sing

In dreams beside Tyrannosaurus rex?

The same long process might produce the sting

Of cobras, evolution as a hex.

The modest-colored vegetarian

Finch failed to be conceived of in the times

Of dinosaurs, totalitarian,

Barbarian those monsters in their crimes.

  But yet we have the skylarks, higher still

    And higher giving up their minor thrill.

~ Phillip Whidden