A poem inspired by the beautiful birds that seem to follow me wherever I go. |
Singing Angels Crimson creatures who don't quite belong greet me each day with their lovely sweet song. We’re birds of a feather these beauties and I but only they really know how to fly. Our connection is real for we’re from the same place where winters are long and cold winds sting the face. When change led us away from the snow and ice it landed us all in tropical paradise. Just how we got here lies in stories untold though each ends with happy to be away from the cold. I know they're watching for they visit me some are flying others perched in a tree. Their crimson bodies like lights in the sky when I’m outside will catch my eye. But if I'm inside and they're out of view they'll just chirp and chirp 'til I ask, "Where are you?" But if I’m indoors and they’re up in a tree they’ll just chirp and chirp ’til I go out and see. Then they show their face and we have a nice chat Then we have a nice chat and we say goodbye until the next time when they want to say hi. I’m ever so grateful for the miles they have flown my guardian angels so I’m never alone. Line count: 40 |