Feathered Treat
A robin perches on a bough
While crimson drapes are drawn with night,
The season’s hours come, to allow
First call of springtime’s pure delight.
Petals awake from winter’s grim;
Alive with buds yearning to brim.
There is a softness in mid- air
Birds have rhapsodies to share,
Nocturnal shaded woodlands calm
Release their scented dew-laced balm
To gentle hour that's sure to bring;
The wispy glide of tails winging.
charmed by feathered treat
twitters fade in morn...
the birthing of groves replete!
Sheri Fresonke Harper's Three Stanza Suite
Quatrain, couplet, haiku
by nette onclaud
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2014
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