Fledgling Bird At My Door - Poem by Mark Heathcote
Fledgling bird where on earth do you hope to hop to
If you stretch your wings around my yard
After all this baking hot desert heat
Come evening surely you won’t deny me your faith
Faith is a warm quilt blanket on a cold night
Faith is a fledgling that required no angelic wings
When it’s nesting days were long drawn out of sight.
Thus… poets and songbirds they’re much the same
If there’s no muse! There’s no train of thought!
No flight of wings to launch or fly his, her kite
Instead of a flowing, weightless, moving quill…
We’ll have a paperweight run of the mill verse
That can flap all it wants but it’ll never float or fly
It’ll never absorb the meaning behind the why.
At worse, it’ll just hop
Hop in and out of rhyme, hoping also it to can fly.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You