Details |
Deborah Hogben Poem
A song to sing
With a hither and a dither
A mighty river
The troubled brows of people pour
Blinkers, tinkers and many non-thinkers
Flood rushing down washed up shores
A surging roar!
A song for sure, we should not endure
Soaring high in advancing thicket
A lone wren strives to sing
Perched on a metal birch
But the traffic still thunders and the wren is ignored
And she must continue her search
Cease that din!, she has a song to sing
She flutters and flitters and scolds
Emitting high pitched squeals
Ever more raucous and shrill
When all seemed lost
And if by chance
There came a witching sound
Thrilling rounds of booming trill
“Oh! what joy!, I have a song to sing!”
That dawning morning
Dressed with a new found glory
She called with a hopeful “Churr, churr, churr”
The message, swift and clear
A statement for those that chose to hear
That gleeful “Churr, churr, churr”
“Hear! Come near, I have a song to sing”
Her music made and sounds of warbling notes were heard
Drifting, Floating
Warming winters breeze
The reply came quick
“What darling rhapsody, come fly with me”
“Fly, let's fly away please!”
“Birdie dear, we have a song to sing”
They stayed for a while
Breast upon breast and a small caress
United in harmony
They now have a new song, all of their own
Stronger, louder
A rapturous symphony!
“Fly, my love, we have a song to sing”
Four wings flapped, upon the current
They didn't eavesdrop on the bubbling chaos named din
Not any
Their chorus, resonating ripples of promise
Embraced every grim nook and cranny
Near and afar, they had songs to sing
Copyright © Deborah Hogben | Year Posted 2017
|