! Bird's Nest
M Michael Shepherd
0
Altın Yaprak
Here in the ivy,
cupped, a light,
an aery, faery thing;
no artist could make better,
no mother could do more;
so much intelligence,
so much love;
every threaded fibre
a flight of love.
Is it fulfilled, or waiting,
or plundered of its life?
too precious to destroy,
this cradle of intelligence.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş