a little songbird awaiting impatiently on the branches of a tree of greengage
"my little songbird, fly away! winter is nigh and my song no longer you can imitate."
but the feathery fellow is too persistent as it would seem:
"I would rather perish than not hear you sing."
"Then surely I must grant you your wish!".
its chest puffed up with dulcet satisfaction
and then it perished with the coming wind!
for my melodies are mine and I hold them oh, so dear,
no foul warbler shall ever dare flutter its dainty little wings near!
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𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗬 ᵖʳᵒˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
PoetryA collection of prose and poetry on various subjects. Exploring the depth of human emotion and understanding through words and rhymes. ....... #1 in poetry 23/12/22-25/12/22 #1 in thoughts 10/10/21 (out of 83.1k) #1 in adage #1 in prosecollection #...
