With drunken flight and silver wings
A bird of blue flew over me,
And though at first her song not heard
She tried to tune a vocal cord.
Yet with struggle seeming much
This puny bird was all but hush
As such a creature graced with voice
She sang to me, so was her choice.
Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
With drunken flight and silver wings
A bird of blue flew over me,
And though at first her song not heard
She tried to tune a vocal cord.
Yet with struggle seeming much
This puny bird was all but hush
As such a creature graced with voice
She sang to me, so was her choice.
