HUMMING BIRDS AT THE FEEDER ~THERESA NEMETH

HUMMING BIRDS AT THE FEEDER

Each Song A Phrase Of Chattering Color

Each Baby, Each Bird, Each Song, Each Mother

In A Fluttering Sip, A Game Paradise

While Each Bird Guards Its Merchandise.

A Fleet Of Peeps With A Fringe In The Sound,

Two Twice Encircled And Three Twice In Frown

The Hummingbird Carries Each Song In A Hurry

For A Chance To Drink In Momentous Fury.

A Wisp Of Warmth Carries Wings In The Sky

From The Morning’s Cool Air Til The Moon’s Starlit Rise

High Up In The Trees, Fickle And Fro –

That Is The Way The Hummingbirds Go.

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Want to try your hand at poetry? Email me at poeticiapoems@gmail.com

Featured image credits to Willgard on Pixabay

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