Heart Speak

Tho' I am but the sparrow's twining strains The palette and the pen of whisp'ring souls I'm sweeter, still, if dashed upon the shoals Or bleeding from the hem of day's remains Tho' I may weep from all a scoundrel feigns For what each soldier's dying breath extols It's grander, even, morning's meadow rolls As spindrift, tossed upon the grassy plains Oh, I am found the coursing thru all things As warm within your veins, as sunset's sky My constancy, to love and swoon and hate To stir in hopes or see what passion brings So guard me, close, or open me and cry ... I'll bound and thrum and patiently ... await. ~ 1st Place ~ in the "Open Me First" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.