Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Recommended Posts

Posted

Autumn's Turning

**************************

Amongst the trees,

gold leaves of fall,

birds of a wing did gather all

 

The Robin sang

of his red breast

and how he thought it was the best.

 

The Lark chimed in

with his two bits

and quoted he admired Tits.

 

The Tits responded

much in kind.

The Lark's high praises they refined.

 

The Wren declared

the Hummingbird

the fastest wings of which he'd heard.

 

The Hummingbird

*was* swift of wing.

Self praise was his linguistic string.

 

The Bellbird's ring

was heard to sound,

how he thought Doves the sweetest 'round.

 

The Dove replied

that, to his eyes,

the Nightingale deserved the prize.

 

The Nightingale

did erstwhile sing

of happiness and other things.

 

But now his song

was silenced, still...

They'd all forgotten Winter's chill.

 

They'd sat too long

'midst Autumn's turning,

harkened not migration's yearning

 

So one by one

they passed away.

Their pride the cause of their decay.

×
×
  • Create New...