Little bird, painted friend, from your throat a song that floats I know you from long ago
Coming from another life when I was the bird and you were a young wife
I loved you then and I love you now but I will never hold you somehow
Your feathers are too bright and your song too sweet we were never meant to meet
Dreams dissolve in the morning light, all that you left me is a feather from your flight
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: July 1st, 2025 04:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Caring dove
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Comments3
This poem shimmers with a quiet, aching beauty; like a memory glimpsed through morning mist. It evokes a love beyond time, tender and unreachable, wrapped in wistfulness and wonder. That final image of the single feather lingers like the echo of a dream, delicate and unforgettable. 🪶🕊️🙏🏻
Many thanks Cryptic for such a poetic review it leaves me humbled and very appreciative.
Most welcome, Soren🕊️🙏🏻
Lovely writing )) beautiful poem
I liked reading this
Seems a bit sad tho I like your way with words
You are very kind thank you so much for your read and supportive words of encouragement
A beautifully write written with tenderness, it gracefully dances as you read, very nice
Thank you Tobani for your review and kind encouragement it is deeply appreciated
You are very welcome
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