Duet.

Duet.

When words mean
no more, as sentences stand to the side
in haunting silence,
allowing young moon, head in low mist
of kissing cloudlets,
to re-bound one nightingale's drenching
of air streams
with bird sound I stand in awe hearing

magic dreamily waiting for more.

I shall remember
this silver-sheened lake-side songster,
trills echoing
before disappearance in tallest spears
leaving dumb  
wonder with which I now dare to write,
versing the sequence 
of key-dripping outburst in meaningful
phrases, describing 
the piercing harmony of winged pride
voicing heart beneath 
diamond star-brooches bent on joining
the listening scene
which appeals to my pen and as water 
aids bird in rippling  

duet broken is night's hold on silence 

and begins by torchlight

this my humble attempt at poetic ode.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Listening to the birds transfixes us, inspiring your words on the morning soundtrack we stop in our tracks for, if we are lucky enough to forget the distractions of the day about to begin.
Your words do them justice, softly wondering what they sing. It could be that they are passing on their breakfast order, or telling the kids to wash their faces before birdschool, for all we care. Just as long as they keep transfixing us.
Captured the moment perfectly Fay. Or if you prefer, chirp chirp cheep cheep chirp 😀

[Fay Slimm]

Chirping my thank yous for this lovely review Lorry - - yes I often imagine what they in their bird-speak are saying - they all seem to enjoy just being themselves and that's quite a lesson for me at the start of some busy days - - - hope you get a few moments with bird-song today..........

[jacob erin-cilberto]

quite a nice achievement of a poetic ode.
you are so good, Fay...love your writing.
and had this thought while reading this piece...what if birds could write?
imagine the poetry if they gave words to their song?
you make me wonder at that.
j.

[Fay Slimm]

A big thank you for your support of my efforts to bring the magic of bird-speak to readers' listening ears........... the nightingale in but one of the wonders and oh yes Jacob if only they could write down and we could understand their mysterious language what a learning curve that would be to us human earthlings. Ah well we poets can dream.