Stymie

He stands tall and proud just north of Boston
An old and wise wild blue heron
Guarding the bridge just behind O'Brien's
Making sure none trespass not even those with fins

I saw a vagrant man try to cross his path
He didn't get far before he felt the wrath
Mighty Stymie as we will call him now
Pecked at his eyes until the man went down

With the man face down in the water by the rocks
Mighty Stymie scoffed at us watching from the docks
Stymie spread his wings and flapped, showing off his guns
Seven feet wide sometimes blocking out the sun

Stymie squawked at us with fire in his eyes
Saying, "I will peck you as well if you challenge my pride"
Learning quick from the man that alas no longer has vision
We will stay put, safely far away from a dagger beak collision

Here is your poem of the keeper of the bridge
Not scared of anyone not even a smidge
Stymie was inspired by a friend from home
While watching him stand in the Saugus River foam.