If Only.

No tonic compares to dawn's
best rewarding
blackbird-sweet melodies spilling abroad.

Silence drips with his chords
as his daring
leaves shards piercing the crystal clear air.

If only my pen could capture
each little droplet of rapturous
sound I would bottle the liquidy
trilling of notes and unstopper his
solo and pour this potion on wounds
brought by neglect of listening to food
from the heavens suffused with freedom
by angelic singing that brings hearers ease.

Of all nature's symphonies
ever been heard
nothing out-betters the notes of this bird.

With tuneful soliloquist
stirring my sleep
I willingly rouse and mean to drink deep.