"representing" poems - Hello Poetry

Upon the dark night, striking three; A tick representing each step in time, but time overwhelmed by a trinity of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams. As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation, a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited Another beauty upon the night, a tulip, blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird. The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings A praise, a never ending thankfulness "Thank You for the trees, Thank You for the waves, And thank You for me," the bird sings. In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing; Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes. The songs of beauty the bird once sang are silenced more than a whisper Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders, "Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?" Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang, but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower; However, the sun rises, the flower realizes, A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation, Just like any other day. Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three: You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing, for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking Fly free, song bird, Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.

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Feb 25, 2018

Feb 25, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC

JessicaJarvisPoetry

A Story About a Beautiful Songbird

Upon the dark night, striking three; A tick representing each step in time, but time overwhelmed by a trinity of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams. As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation, a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited Another beauty upon the night, a tulip, blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird. The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings A praise, a never ending thankfulness "Thank You for the trees, Thank You for the waves, And thank You for me," the bird sings. In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing; Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes. The songs of beauty the bird once sang are silenced more than a whisper Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders, "Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?" Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang, but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower; However, the sun rises, the flower realizes, A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation, Just like any other day. Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three: You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing, for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking Fly free, song bird, Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.