A Hawk's Gift

A blush of pink kissed maiden's cheek,
On Valentine's morn, with heart so meek.
No roses bloomed, no sweet notes sung,
But soaring high, a sight unhung.

A hawk did glide on wings so bold,
Its feathers fierce, like tales of old.
Not cupid's arrow pierced her heart,
But talons sharp, that set apart.

The maiden watched, her spirit bright,
The hawk a sign of inner might.
Love not found in gentle sighs,
But in the fire within her eyes.

No need for prince or promised hand,
Her strength alone, on love would stand.
The hawk its lonely vigil kept,
As for herself, the maiden wept.

Yet tears were not of lonely despair,
But power born, beyond compare.
The hawk was love, not hearts and lace,
And independence lit her face.

No cupid's dart, no whispered vow,
The hawk her guide, she knew it now.
Love wild and true, on wings so free,
This Valentine's gift, for all to see.

LINE COUNT: 24 Lines
WRITTEN FOR: "Winner & New Prompt Due Wednesday, February 14"  
PROMPT:
n the Middle Ages, it was believed that birds chose their partners on St. Valentine’s Day; poets often rejoiced in the link between lovebirds and lovers.

According to the historian Peggy Robbins, many superstitions were related to birds seen by maidens on Valentine’s Day. If she saw a blackbird, she would marry a clergyman; a goldfinch, a millionaire; a redbreast, a sailor; a crossbill, a quarrelsome man. A wryneck would condemn the poor lady to the fate of an old maid.

Write a story or poem about a maiden who sees a hawk on Valentine's Day. What does it mean? What happens next?