More Poetry

Felt Blue bird

Felt Blue bird

Love Notes

© 2014 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

With us oh so short a time,

The songbirds of the spring;

They build their nests among the leaves,

And then begin to sing.

The air is filled with sweet excess

Of trebled, warbled trills.

They sing of longing, loneliness,

Love songs from every bill.

They meet, they mate and raise their young

Until the air is chilled,

Then they gather, gossip and fly away

So other ears might thus be filled

With their exquisite songs of praise.

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