A lovely winged melody rose from
the white flowered branch of
the oleander this morning.
The singer nestled among the narrow
green leaves, lifted her rusty
brown head and filled the
morning air with elegant beauty.
Her song was a gift, her
presence a revelation of
joy matching the intensity
of the sun electrifying white
flower clusters.
Through my window I watched
the fragile body thrust forward
to push her song through tangled
branches and into the currents of
a congenial morning breeze.
The quiet harmony of the universe
is forever enhanced by these brilliant
sounds of blessing.
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Author:
DesertWords (
Offline) - Published: May 2nd, 2019 06:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Lorna
Offline)
Comments1
I feel and see every line of this........... I am there or at least want to be. I watch my little corner of the world with the same eyes.
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