Bashfully, Shy A Moment Paused Poem by James McLain

A sparrow sings preening a white breast
Hopping from each branch, as if she was
another half-way in flying off too waiting.
Lily pads spread wide across are looking past
the frog from their hoods of iris yellow,
Bashfully, shy a moment it paused.
Waiting for that real defining moment.
The clouds part and down fall drops,
crystal clear and day sweeps softly past,

And the nights humid warm and shows it's piety,
Does our garden thrive? , tender soothing chick.
The nest within it preens...?
Are they yellow-green and sightly.
Does lightning flash the sun on waiting trees?
Is it a streams that laughs with private zest,
while quiet, never forced by the other thee?
The sun will smile down on grace with each
a dazzling face and be yours blue or brown
And hazel eyes the woods run off the sky mad
with you and clouds like youth it rushes us by.


p.l.d.