Winters Joy
Nightingale perched in solitude
wrapped in words, that protect against this world
Lusty branches
lie fallow
stark avian beauty
flys into my sad dreams,
Still
my songbird chooses
to sing, to shake the night
I, a captive blackbird
tied
bound
to her soft melody
I float
on notes
of winter joy
PB
Copyright © Patrick Boyle | Year Posted 2014
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