A Robin Flies.

Posted: April 27, 2011 in Poetry

As once, as the robin crowed out in the rise,
And then as a story worth telling be twice
As much as substantial as kerosene hearts
That light up a fire, so quick as it starts,

Then here speaks the lady in carousel line:
I’ll reach you somehow, somewhere, that’s fine.
A drizzle of waiting and walking in time
Had worth of a soul that was crafted in rhyme.

Do roundabout-roundabout wheels, they go?
(Like when did conclusions since benefit shows?)
Through thick and through thin, the water shall seep,
And witnessing history’s alibi weep.

There’s much for prerogative even, to learn,
There’s much for the freedom, if none yet to earn.
As once, for the robin had crowed in the rise,
The night shall be set for a new pair of eyes.


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