OH! Such fair weather and what storm-burst hearts!
When caressing heat-touch’d brilliant morning’s sun Each light drench-steep’d young child.
warring showers within the beautiful sorrows!
On a blue sky mourning my bruised heart singing
songs-blue jay melodies in meadows kissing me.
To gather the wood as we build a new nest
for our eggs and young birds. Sweet arranged new sun and sonnet new formed day.
All for love and hearts.
My beautiful love. My blue feathered bird.
:: – ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 