Singing Morning

The thick chilled air brings a hint of lilac
fresh tang robin-sung misty morning feedback
sequestered by archaic bonds boxed in
falling tears and broken-hearted topspin

hitting the net and out of play until
at last the ancient tale losing its thrill
I question every weighted word, sing
a new spell, bird-led, captivating spring.

Inspired by Tear and Archaic.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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