The morning rain fell round the beaten bridge
and poured like playful ribbons down each side,
encasing him below; his special cage
contained him where he loved to calmly hide.
Above his head the footsteps shook and rang
like gongs that echo over sacred ground.
With this, and songbirds tending to their young,
the rain-chilled bridge assembled every sound.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of my Mind
PoesíaThese are a collection of poems that I have written in my spare time and at University. They're in practically chronological order from 2009 - present day (except the first couple) so the most recent updates WILL be more thought-out and poetic. But...
