Sonnet #5

The grasses bend once more before the breeze.
The errant birds return to furnish nests.
Ecstatic green bursts forth from burnt out trees.
The flowers preen, and try to look their best.

Such little things, but in the wake of fire,
That slaked its thirst and brought the land such strife,
The soils sings, no longer feels so tired;
Those little things delight, are signs of life.

A buried ember trembles, will not die;
It waits and wishes for the wind to start.
So fly, my Phoenix, fix your fierce eye
On flames that flicker still within your heart.
And lend your breath to kindle that small spark,
And wield its blaze to guide you through the dark.

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One Response to “Sonnet #5”

  1. Wow you guys 🙂 Love to see you being all creative n that 😉

    Big Kiss X

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