Thurman P. Woodfork

(With apologies to William Blake)

Thurman P. Woodfork: Tiger, Tiger, Shadow WarriorThis stealthy Tiger never burned bright
In the jungle forest’s night;
It was thy dread hand that struck the fear
In enemy hearts, far and near.
Ghosting through the ‘Wait-a-Bits’
Like some hellion from the pits,
Triple canopy hid the skies
From thy hooded, fiery eyes.
It strains one’s credulity
That He who made the lamb also made thee.
Carrying a K-bar, never a spear,
Thy hunting eyes had no time for tears.
Tiger, Tiger, concealing thy light
In jungle shadows of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Did frame thy fearful symmetry?
Hurry back, Old Son.