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What happens in May
Oh how the bird doth sing in May,
as the clear water shines on,
and as new ripples arrive on the surface,
the old are claimed by the distant shore.
Fish swim up to the surface,
Causing more ripples to swim away.
The fish take a breath,
Then dive back down beneath the waves.
Seagulls fly above these waters,
Crying and squawking for fish.
They fly around once, twice,
Then glide noiselessly back to the shore.
King Arthur’s men, walking past the lake
Noticed these fish, and dropped their swords.
But, alas, the fish hath heard the noise,
And swam deeper down, too wait out the storm of men.
The army then noticed the seagulls,
Sitting quietly preening their feathers.
“Quietly, softly” whispered a man,
As he picked his sword up off the ground.
The rest did the same,
But one was clumsy.
He picked up his sword,
And dropped it in his hurry.
“Oh fie” said an exasperated man,
At the end of his nerves.
“Look what you’ve done.
Now there is no food,”
But we must now ask ourselves:
Was it really clumsiness that the young man dropped his sword?
Or was it out of kindness for the birds?
We may never know what really happened on that fine day in May.
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