Fledgling Bird At My Door

Fledgling bird where on earth do you hope to hop to If you stretch your wings around my yard After all this baking hot desert heat Come evening surely you won't deny me your faith Faith is a warm quilt blanket on a cold night Is a fledgling requiring no angelic wings? When its nesting days were long drawn out of sight. Thus poets and songbirds they're much the same If there's no muse! There's no train of thought No flight of wings to launch or fly his/her kite Instead of a flowing, weightless, moving quill We'll have a paperweight run-of-the-mill verse That can flap all it wants, but it'll never float or fly It'll never absorb the meaning behind the why. At worst, it'll just hop Hop in and out of rhyme, hoping-also it too can fly.