The Kingfisher
Blue dulcet, spread out and new
soaring high across a glidden sky
entranced by dire drips of green
singing out another moonlit lullaby
A kingfisher of sorts, so honest and true
wings dipped in search of a sullen you
reaching out to where oceans walk
hearts wait, and gentle breezes talk
Finding her on the finest grains of sand
washed ashore from a far away land
the mother of pearl, radiant and bright
clasped to a past, giving up her fight
He swoops as if sent by the angels
she swoons, but his wings are too weak
he tries, but he no longer can fly
into midnight, they both silently sink
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