The silent cinema the real poetry
Showed in the morning sky
A moving slow motion picture
Screened blue and white
Then two spunky birds
I think related
Either in blood or in vows
Near at hand distract me
Oh my!... a cardinal red startled
So suddenly… where did you fly?
Whose eye spies you now?
You are beautiful much too beautiful to touch
What does it all mean?
Surrounded in all this green
Some still some in movement
Dance with the invisible force
Wonder if that tree sees me
When I touch her does she feel me
Of course not you call me silly
The songbirds sing for me
Originally Posted On Site: 2007-10-02 08:57:01
Last Login: 03.02.10
Visits as of 12-12-07: 354
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