Of Wings And Greed 

Devil or angel, 
What can he be? 
Did he fall from the sky, 
Or rise from the sea? 

Is he wise?  Is he gifted? 
What luck does he bring? 
Will they stone him or praise him, 
The old man with the wings? 

A gift from the heavens 
A presage from hell 
They put him on display 
Many tickets to sell 

The rain stopped its deluge, 
The child appeared healed. 
The priest had no answer 
When to his bishop he appealed. 

Invalids they came, 
The lame begged to walk. 
Lighting their candles, 
The mute hoped to talk. 

His keepers lives prospered 
While with chickens he lay. 
They lived in a mansion, 
His bed was of clay 

The house had two stories 
For him not a room 
When he went near the lady, 
He was shooed with a broom. 

The winter was bitter. 
He was moved to a shed. 
Some days he kept still. 
They thought he was dead. 
 

The sun warmed the earth 
His feathers, they grew. 
He kept them a secret. 
Then, one day he flew 

Toward the sea he did soar. 
That old wing'd legend 
Had he been real, 
Or merely imagined?