Oh mocking bird, ignoble feathered beast Of the midnight hours, with multiple Voices trilling stridently in the moonlit Night. You are as a lost soul calling for Your mate in solo flight: You must be Listening to the wandering moon, for Anon the dawn will rise so very soon, and Like someone led astray in the fallow Meadows of the day, only gray embers Of wishful memories shall stay. Ennobled by Eros’ sting, your gaudy Notes will, as the night rises, once again sing.
Ah, someone else who appreciates the song of the mockingbird in the early hours of the morning. Although I always interpreted the song as one of joy, a kindred spirit when I was in my 20s and didn’t want to give in to the end of the night. 🙂
Ah, someone else who appreciates the song of the mockingbird in the early hours of the morning. Although I always interpreted the song as one of joy, a kindred spirit when I was in my 20s and didn’t want to give in to the end of the night. 🙂
lovely.