Plume

A bird's will to see though every glade,is an eye opener.

Drizzling pitter-patter
on the soft soil platter
residing with furor
quiet wind on its shore

Perched on the branches
sweet birds in squeaky pour
chipper,teeter,teeny weeny detour
with no mute signal,cologne pure

Quirk of probing breeze tore
the twigs,stems in two and more
affirm in her mime and power
the wind shook,birds tower

Whistling notes dropped
skimpy rippling drill cropped
eavesdropping by sullen river
frozen field ensued a mumble throb

No vent,rant made them grossly dark
why they sing,where the blinkers
all and sundry sought aloud
when the blind woods shroud

No fear of falling
turning dust next to nest
untimely plunder,toppled blunder
keeping counsel fancy free

Wings and flight a flux
wilder the behest...
cohesive in zest...
the ultimate rhythm to scour