SC ( / )

Ode To Sunday

The sun filters through the leaves,
Soft light kissing the ground

The birds swoop,
Finding food for those who cannot fly

The flowers open,
Each delicate petal,
One by one

Spider’s silk,
Dew, shining like stars

The butterflies dance around,
Playing a game of tag from flower to flower

In the house,
No-one stirs,
It must be Sunday

©2008 Sinead Carpenter

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes )

Maya Angelou

Caged Bird

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.