The Morning Bird Poem, by everlong, at My poetic side

A Robin spurts through the woods

As the wind howled a soothing tune

Boisterous pines already dancing

To the loud whispers in the gloom

Quite gentle

And even more mighty

So dark

But yet sightly

They creak as they swung east

Before groaning back west

But with roots buried deep

They'd never harm this birds nest

And so it chirped to the song

In natures sound elegance

As the sun gradually rose up

For the morning's bright excellence

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