There’s a quiet joyousness
In these rites of Spring,
The cuckoo and the pigeon’s breast,
Seasons on a wing.
Dawn chorus is my necklace,
Morning dew my rings,
Sublime the geese-calls overhead,
Divine the dew-blade sings.
My needs no more than gods would bless,
I know I’m better off,
With sun and moon, a place to rest,
All other gains are lost.
Such a lovely poem Nick 👏
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Soooo beautiful, Nick! Adding to my looooong list of favorites… ❤
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Thank you Laura 🙏🏻
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My absolute pleasure!
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