One raven on the once-bare tree Grooms its feathers as I can see All around it green buds sprouting And each bud looks like hope to me I no longer hear the shouting Of that erstwhile majority As mockingbirds fall silent now
The former foes unanimous Our leaders are misleading us
This solitary bird today Bears truth which will not go away Inconvenient reality For those who would misrule through lies As spring is born as winter dies Bears witness to our hope somehow That as buds burst at last we rise
So real this poem but one thing missing as the crow flies so will the Eagle soar once again. Hope cannot be lost in a country that was bred for patrioism. Great write Steve.
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c
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Regis
Cold as can be!!
Love Tinka
Felix