The swallows have returned for summer,
I didn't miss them, but I'm glad they're back,
Why they come here, I wonder,
To arid lands, concrete and tarmac.
Their face and neck feathers, softer red,
The colour unlike a robin.
More like Saharan suns put to bed,
Sinking below barren sand, seldom trodden.
Their butler coats are two-tailed,
Darkest blue, like the midnight sky.
I often wonder as to how I failed,
To miss them fleeting by.
I hope their homes, made out of clay
Do resist the toils and grief,
We shall put up with, day by day,
And they continue in their belief,
That sometime, it will all be theirs,
The skies, forests, fields and plains,
They can flitter through once again, lacking any cares,
For no longer will their land be,
solely mens.
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Poetry
PuisiMy poetry gives voice to my inner ramblings and views I have of the world. I hope you enjoy reading, any criticism is widely welcome! I now create poetry on fiverr if that's any interest to peeps https://www.fiverr.com/share/WeDjD7
