As day and week slow down to rest,
A vigil. Gliding silently,
She moves across the pond towards
The hidden patch that shelters her new nest.
And I the watcher, wish her well,
As I do parents, everywhere:
Who in their far few silent times,
Feel more love than a heart or words could tell.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
View all posts by Beleaguered Servant
