The murmur stops then finds its feet
The constant drone of bees;
A tiny angel’s song breaks through,
And puts the world at ease.
Ashamed, delighted, innocent,
The throng cannot believe,
That dulcet tones reverberate
Among the beams and eaves.
Two soul-mates in the shadows
Who’d never risk a word;
In coiffured, sequenced splendour;
Two lives entwined; absurd.
A sneer, a glance, judgmental;
A powerful eagle’s wing;
Is crushed beneath my yearning;
To hear an angel sing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem