No one knows from where He came
On that stormy day so gray
A few around here claimed
From storm junk far away
Perched for days on an old pine bough
He spent his days as in a daze
Mid willowed cries of spellbound sighs
As leaves around him splayed
Through out the hills and valleys low
Hints of autumn amber glowed
Happiest days we've ever known
That old buzzard right at home
Neath skies both blue and gray
The song birds sang so gay
Happy were we he stayed
He seemed like an angel in his way
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Good Morning Wes
You do have a wonderful way with words my friend. The imagery within your words is so stunning. But that is no surprise, you vocabulary is always superb in your poems.
I may hear voices now and then but I think it is just the song within my heart I hear .
A pleasure to read. You take care, Sandy
Adding your comment:
