Gliding softly through the air, deftly slicing the morning cold,
She comes...Sure and intent upon her chosen destination.
Gently she lands on the lush green of the water’s edge,
Head held proud, neck arched, her domain without question.

She daintily steps on silky reeds along the muddy shore,
Feet held high and elegant like a dancing Lippizan mare.
She answers to no one, but three chicks that await her,
Secure in a soft, downy nest snuggled against the cool air.

The glassy, mirrored surface ripples and shimmers in waves,
As gentle as the delicate breeze of a lady’s fan.
She knows that somewhere, under this Prussian blue,
Awaits nourishment for her babes, above the white gleam of sand.

Swiftly she dips her head into the frigid, silver liquid,
Proudly emerges with fish in her strong and lengthy beak.
She swallows to store her catch which later she will present,
These treasures to her brood for now they are too young and weak.

She stops supremely still, her eyes glitter as they sweep the shore,
There is now danger here, feathers ruffle, she raises her feet.
A wily gator spotted her shadow under the mirrored surface,
He is prepared for attack, and then a quick and easy treat.

Yet she is no foolish creature, she was born with grand instincts.
As he prepares to lunge, she lifts her wings to soar above the gleaming lake.
The gator sulks and sinks below to find some new unsuspecting prey,
While the bird taunts from above, still hunts for food before the babes awake.

In the tireless cycle of her ilk, she dips and swallows a thrashing fish,
She is proud of her abilities, she was born with this natural gift.
When the sun begins to set she stirs her wings to fly, content, replete,
A grand blue heron mission complete, on currents of air homeward to drift

V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry For Tea Drinkers

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