Quiet urges to be born in daylight's infamy,
Placid, still and calm, jaded day will soon die.
Birds, the artisans of flight, startle in majesty,
Their candle wings flicker, bribing the sky.
Wing against gentleness, will against chance.
Now that is the way to romance.
Battered hearts urge their brothers to rest,
And walk silently toward grey skies that dance.
They raise their arms like followers of jest,
Glad for another moment to leap and run wild.
To jump high and raise flags above their heads.
At sunset, when night crawls to the edge of the nest.
With passion in their hearts they glance back,
Fall and flap and drift forever to the unknown
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: May 20th, 2026 00:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 49
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, arqios, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments7
Beautiful a most reflective poem of romance and one's place. Very nicely written David and a fave
Thank you so much. Gotta find your place. Your comments area always enjoyed and appreciated
It is my pleasure David
Beautiful message and imagery!
Thank you for commenting much appreciated
Noice, amigo. A sure fave 🤩🙏🏻🕊️
Thanks for commenting bro
well written
Thank you
You're so welcome.
Wow! A fave! What stayed with me most was “Their candle wings flicker, bribing the sky.” That image is gorgeous, David...fragile and luminous at the same time. It gives the whole piece this dreamlike pull that lingers long after the final line. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you amigo.Your comments are insightful and appreciated
Lines 5&6 are profound. Nicely done.
Thank you so much
lovely - can visualize the scene - you have described it so well...
Thank you for reading and commenting
most welcome..
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