CHORK! chork! The white sea-cliff, the crawling waves, the fringe of weed between, Midway a cleft in the rock—from above, from below unseen. Chork! chork! The sun alone looks in where my nest is; the moon shines in the blinking eyes of my children. Sweet is the warm night nestling all together, sweet the dawn by the fresh air fanned, Sweet to arise and soar into the blue weather—to see the brown fields and pastures inland! To sail inland, a dozen together, to the feeding grounds, and unearth the fat white slugs, (chork! chork!) To roam and range with the others—how sweet I—and yet not with them, Forgetting never My own particular cleft in the rock and the tuft of sea-poppies beside it—like yellow flames burning— And the red wide throats of my chicks as they catch my black shadow upon them, returning. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BELL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES HISTORY OF A LIFE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER MEDITATION AT KEW by ANNA WICKHAM THE NUANCES OF MENDACITY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ON LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS |