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