Bough-Swung, All I Sight Poem by james watkin

Bough-Swung, All I Sight



Bough-swung, all I sight
For bird-flustered tree;
Dark, if not bedevilled yond
For what's felt, moody.

Caught up, chased away
Each arm-flapping pair;
Of this bane of storm-loosed
Spirits of the air.

Saturday, December 5, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: bird,children,storm,summer
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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